A Sacrificial Vow
by keelhaulrose
Summary: Hermione has promised to keep Severus out of Azkaban, but the Ministry seems determined to imprison him. In order to keep him out they must marry in six months, and stay married for fifteen years. Will she be able to go through with it, and can a marriage based on deceiving the Ministry ever turn into something more? HG/SS, EWE
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The readers have spoken, and this was the overwhelming winner in my poll.**

**I'm going to try something new this time around. I will be putting song recommendations at the start of a chapter (if I have them). Just something that got the creative juices flowing. The first song is "Bother" by Stone Sour.**

**It is obviously Severus/Hermione, though it might take us a long time to get there. This is going to be a long ride, so I hope you're ready for it! This story is AU (in that Severus survived), and I'm ignoring the epilogue. M for language, and adult themes.**

**Obligatory disclaimer: I do not own HP. I could not hope to own HP. I just play around with the characters and try to return them in reasonable shape.**

**Here we go!**

The water slapped hard on the rocks as Hermione landed not two feet from the churning sea; the only place she could Apparate on the tiny island. Her foot slipped on a damp, moss-covered rock, and the back of her trainer and the hem of her traveling cloak were dripping as she pulled them from the frothy water. A rough hand closed around her wrist, pulling her upright.

"Miss Granger?" the old guard asked.

"Yes," she said meekly, looking up the stone walls. The Dementors might be long gone, but that didn't mean the place had a welcoming air.

"This way," he said, pulling her towards a small gate. There were guards on either side, and she was run over with a secrecy sensor and a probity probe before they decided that she was who she said she was and they let her enter a the cramped front office.

"Wand," the man ordered, opening a thin drawer and turning towards a stack of papers.

She tightened her grip on the wand for a moment, then carefully placed it in the drawer. The man slammed it shut and locked it with a key. She hoped it was magic-proof; she hated parting with her wand, but had been warned she wouldn't be allowed to take it into the prison. Wands weren't allowed since they had gotten rid of the Dementors.

"Sign here," the man threw a water-logged old book onto the table, with a quill that had the top broken off. She touched as little of it as possible as she signed and wrote the date, time, and name of the prisoner she wanted to visit. The man looked at this last line and let off a snort.

"Good luck with that 'un, girlie," he sneered. "Hasn't said two words ta anyone since gettin' here."

"All the same, I'd like to try to speak to him," she said in what she hoped was a brave voice.

"Suit yerself," he shrugged, then he opened the door and barked, "Number 20984."

Outside another guard grabbed an unlabeled key off the wall, crossed the neglected courtyard, and disappeared through a heavy wooden door on the other side.

"Sally'll take care of ya," the man pushed her out of the door, where a thick-set woman was waiting for her. Without saying anything, the woman marched her to the left, through another heavy door, and into a miserable, dark hallway that smelled of stale urine and rotten food. They walked a short way down the hall, then Sally opened a door. The room was tiny, about the size of Harry's old bedroom, with a window leading to an even smaller room to one side. Inside was were a beaten wooden table and two chairs- one which had a cracked cushion that looked like it had been repaired and re-ripped several times,. The other was chair was bolted to the floor, and a set of shackles around the feet for the more unruly prisoners. She wondered vaguely if they would be used on him.

"You can stay up to an hour," Sally deadpanned, as she started reciting the rules. "No physical contract. No passing the prisoner anything. If you do wish to give him something, surrender it now and we'll check it out before we give it to him."

"I don't have anything," Hermione told her. "I just want to talk."

"Either you or the prisoner can terminate this meeting at any time. If you feel threatened, you need only stand, wave, and say 'assistance', and we will be in here in seconds. His guard and I will be watching through the glass over there," she pointed to the window. "But we will not be able to hear what you are saying, save for that word. When you are prepared to leave just place your hands flat on the table for five seconds, and I'll escort you out. He knows how to tell us that he is done talking with you. When either one of you signal the meeting is over there is no changing your mind. You will follow me out, retrieve your wand, and be off the island in two minutes. Any questions?"

"No, ma'am."

"Good," she said, disappearing behind the window and picking up the latest copy of Witch Weekly. Hermione slowly lowered herself onto the cushioned chair and took a few deep breaths. She had seen him just two weeks before, the day he was released from St. Mungos, and she had protested herself hoarse as they took him away, but no amount of pull to her name had been able to keep him out. Now it was the eve of his hearing, and she had been working night and day getting witnesses together and doing everything she could. She hoped it was enough.

A couple minutes later the door on the other side of the room opened, and he preceded the guard into the room.

"Professor Snape," she said, standing up quickly. The guard pushed him into the chair, didn't shackle his feet but didn't unshackle his wrists. She looked him over in horror a couple of times. At least half the weight he put on in St. Mungos was gone. His eyes were sunken and had no light to them. His hair was as greasy as ever, but now looked tangled and unkempt. She could smell that he hadn't had a shower in days, possibly a week. His skin was starting to yellow. The bandages that still covered the neck wounds from Nagini had dark brown spots on them, and looked to be the same ones he had been wearing when he was taken away.

He waited until the guard was behind the glass and the doors were all closed before speaking. "No need for formalities, Miss Granger. The title of Professor holds no weight here," he managed in a hoarse voice, motioning for her to sit.

She hesitated, then sunk back into the chair. "Just calling you Snape is more of a Harry and Ron thing, sir."

"I do have a first name."

She blanched. "I... I don't know..."

"If you must call me Professor, you may, but I'd prefer you not. Just don't use a name if you're uncomfortable."

"Okay," she nodded.

"What brings you out to our charming little rock?"

"Well, your hearing is tomorrow, and I wanted to let you know where we are with this."

"I don't expect..."

"Please, if I may, sir," she cut in quickly, and paused as if waiting for him to hurl an insult at her. When none was forthcoming she continued, "Harry and I have made it our mission to get you out of here and keep you out of here."

"One might say that the two of you have a knack for picking hopeless missions."

"And yet Voldemort is dead, though we are trying to give you credit where credit is due, which brings me back to my original point, that we are working to keep you out of this place."

"It's hopeless, Miss Granger. Thanks to the Order, there are too few Death Eaters still alive for the Ministry to try and imprison, so people think that they are still somewhat in control of this fiasco. Anyone bearing the Dark Mark, save perhaps those with the last name of Malfoy, will never see freedom again; they have all but spelled that out in the Daily Prophet from what I've been told."

She bit her lip. It was true, that the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot had vowed that they would show no mercy to anyone with ties to Voldemort, and made it seem like they should be grateful that the Dementors weren't around or they would be sentenced to receive the Kiss and the world could bid good riddance to the lot of them.

"Sir," she said, and he sighed in annoyance. "We have witnesses, lots of them, and Harry is escorting Dumbledore's portrait to the Ministry as we speak..."

"Do not get your hopes up, you foolish girl," he snarled. "Have you not considered that perhaps I have accepted my fate,? That I have come to peace with the fact that I will die inside these walls? It will happen soon, I am in no condition to spend years behind bars, especially since they seem to have a lackadaisical approach to medical care around here. I do not wish for you and your friends to go crying to the Ministry on my behalf so they might show enough mercy to give me the medicine I was prescribed and some fresh bandages so they can prolong my suffering and pat themselves on the back about how humane they are."

"Our goal is to keep you out of here to begin with- full stop."

"I have told you it is a foolish goal. You and Potter may be the two most well-known names in our world at the moment, but you are also young, naïve teenagers. They will promise you things, make it seem like they are being generous, and you will take them because it's better than nothing and it satisfies Potter's hero complex. But in the end, I'll still wind up back in here, dying."

"No, you won't," she replied forcefully. "You are the reason Harry and I were able to end the bloody war. You were the one who told Harry what needed to be done. You defied Voldemort to give us the sword."

"I also participated in the horrors that were going on at Hogwarts this past school year."

"Neville is one of our witnesses. He's going to testify that you were not as harsh as the Carrows expected you to be, and that you stopped them from killing him on several occasions. Ginny and Luna will bear witness as well."

"It's Their word versus hundreds of others, who will remind them that I used illegal methods to get information out of students."

"It was only to keep Voldemort happy and away from the school. You knew if he showed up to check on you he would bring several of his inner circle, and the blood traitors would be rounded up and given to Bellatrix for sport."

"Just because that's true doesn't mean the Wizengamot will see it that way."

"I'll just have to convince them, then," she said, sitting straighter and squaring her shoulders.

"You always were one for lost causes, Miss Granger," he sneered, then put both hands flat on the table and looked pointedly at his guard, who recognized the motion and came out of the booth. Snape stood up, giving one last look at Hermione. "I know I will die in here. I've accepted it. Please spend your energy saving someone who deserves it."

"I am," she shot back, standing as Sally emerged. "And I promise to keep you out of here."

"A lost cause, Miss Granger," he called over his shoulder before the door that led to the cells slammed shut. Without another word, Hermione followed Sally out of the room and back to the front office. She signed herself out, picked up her wand from the old guard, and carefully made her way back to the Apparation point. Even though she was tired and soaked from the constant mist around the prison, she didn't dare waste the time to go home. Instead she Apparated directly to the library of Grimmauld Place and started pulling down old law books before she even stripped off her traveling cloak. She allowed it to be taken from her when Kreacher hobbled into the room, and didn't turn down the cup of hot cocoa he was bearing. Once she had gotten all the books she thought might have something she could use, she sat at the table, lit a lamp, and started reading.

It was tedious work. Legal terms blurred together as the pages droned on. Outside, the sun had set long ago, and the moon was peeking through the window, but not offering enough light to aid her in her search. She lit another lamp and stood up, desperate for relief in her bum, which had gone numb from sitting so long. Kreacher had brought her a sandwich for dinner, which sat half-eaten and half-buried underneath leather bound books that had been hastily tossed aside when they proved useless.

When she looked up again, the sky was alight with the colors of sunrise, and she was beginning to lose hope of finding what she needed when she gave a sudden excited shriek. It was buried in the middle of a green-covered book with writing so tiny she had to pick it up and scan the page, hoping beyond hope that it was still there and not a hallucination brought on by exhaustion and desperation. And there she found it, buried in the same droll, faded font as the rest of the book, two small lines that had probably been skipped more than once while the laws were being read. And at the same time, two little lines that had probably kept dozens out of prison in it's time before falling out of fashion. Of course, it would require her to take a very drastic step, and it was only going to be if all else failed, but if it meant keeping Snape out of Azkaban, she had promised herself she'd do anything. She knew she would have to do some research, make sure the law was still current, and somehow she felt it was. She didn't even bother waking Harry with her news; she only had a couple hours before the hearing, and so much to do.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione vaguely remembered what Harry had said about his hearing before the Wizengamot, but she always suspected that he had somewhat trumped up how many people were there. She found out, however, that he was not exaggerating when she had entered the room and found around fifty people staring back at her. Kingsley was there, an ally she knew, and now the Minister of Magic, but since Cornelius Fudge's blatant attempts to all but coronate himself, the Minister could not be the head of the Wizengamot. That job now fell to the Head of the Auror Office, and at the moment that happened to be Gawain Robards, a man who knew he was a placeholder until Harry got some training and took over. Therefore, he felt the need to make his time as the Head and the Chief Warlock as memorable as possible by doling out as harsh of penalties as allowed to all the Death Eaters who came through his courtroom. Hermione had held high hopes that she had put together quite the impressive set of witnesses- herself, Harry, a reluctant Ron, Neville, Ginny, Luna, Hagrid, Slughorn, Arthur Weasley and Dumbledore's portrait, as well as Winky should they need her. Still, they seemed so small against fifty different stern-looking faces that had given them a cold welcome into the dungeon-like courtroom.

Snape had been ushered in five minutes late, but looking far better than he had the day prior, Hermione noticed. They had dressed him in a clean black and white striped uniform, his hair was combed and appeared as through he had tried to clean it as best he could,. Tthe dirt was gone from his body and it appeared as though he had on a fresh set of bandages. An act by those at Azkaban, trying to prove they weren't mistreating their prisoners. She was going to raise hell about that later, she decided as Snape was locked in a glass room no bigger than a bathroom stall. He sat on a rickety stool and looked decidedly disinterested with what was going on. Twice it had taken several attempts to get him to respond to a question, and everyone present, including the witnesses on his behalf, were becoming fed up with his blatant disregard for the proceedings.

Despite Ron's suggestion that they just leave and let him rot, Hermione sent witnesses up in a very carefully orchestrated order. First Arthur, who talked about Snape rushing to St. Mungos in the middle of the night to gather some of Nagini's venom and attempt to look for a cure, and his return a week later with the antivenin that finally allowed Arthur to return home, as well as Snape keeping the Order informed of what was going on with Voldemort. Hermione then presented a written statement from St. Mungos that Snape had, anonymously though they knew it must have been him, provided a quantity of this antivenin in case another case presented, which, knowing Voldemort's fondness for Nagini, seemed like only a matter of time. She then set Slughorn forward, who testified as to Snape's increasing stress over the year he acted as headmaster, and a quiet meeting in which he insisted that they devise several escape routes for the Slytherins in case of an attack on the school and another in which he asked for a list of several laborious tasks that could be used for detention for a student, but nothing that was too dangerous. Luna, Ginny, and Neville came in that order, each testifying that their punishments in view of Snape never seemed as long or as painful as when the Carrows were left to their own devices, and that each had heard him remind one of the sadistic pair that they were not to kill the students. Ron was the first of the Trio to testify, and he told the story of how he had followed Snape's Ppatronus through the woods to find Harry and the Sword of Gryffindor, which he then used to destroy a Horcrux. Hermione testified to relay the information about Snape's final meeting with Voldemort, the attack by Nagini, and how she had saved him by Apparating him directly to St. Mungos for treatment with the antivenin he had prepared a couple years prior. Harry testified for almost two hours, recounting each of the memories Snape had given him, and how each had shown Snape's true loyalties, and how he could not have defeated Voldemort without the memories. Finally, Dumbledore's portrait testified, this time for three hours as the former Headmaster could be rather long-winded, about everything Snape had done for the Order, and how he had not been murdered, rather 'put out of my considerable misery'.

They were sitting the hallway while deliberations occurred, Hermione the most nervous of all. She kept reaching her hand into her pocket, feeling something, then pulling it back out to continue wringing her hands. Arthur, Hagrid, Luna, Ron, and Ginny all left for the their jobs, activities, or just to go home in Ron's case, but Harry stayed with her, knowing she would need support when all her efforts were for naught. Dumbledore's portrait, which was propped up against the wall, was conversing with an odd looking Wizard wearing a bright scarlet tunic in a nearby portrait.

"You bite your lip any harder and you're going to wind up swallowing it," Harry said next to her.

"I'm just nervous, Harry," she said, with an obviously forced smile. "I promised him I wouldn't let him go to Azkaban."

"From what I hear that's not going to be an easy promise to keep."

"But I did promise, and I'll do anything to keep him out of there."

"What do you mean by...?" Harry started, but he was cut off by the sound of the door opening.

"We're ready to give our verdict," an elderly witch said with a grim smile.

They filed back into the room and took their places on the bench. Hermione chanced a glance at Snape as they brought him back in , but he was staring at a blank wall, his face expressionless.

"Severus Snape," Robards said, with more dramatics than was necessary. "After due deliberations this council has found you guilty of being a Death Eater, and various crimes, including but not limited to murder and torture, that go along with such a title."

Hermione swallowed hard and looked at Severus again, but his face hadn't changed.

"We have, however, taken into account your work as an agent for the Order of the Phoenix, and feel a life sentence is not appropriate in your situation. After much consideration for the safety and well being of our world, we have decided to sentence you to Azkaban prison for a term of fifteen years..."

"No!" Hermione shouted.

"Quiet, Miss Granger. You had your turn to speak!"

"But this isn't right. The law clearly states that a spy for the side of the light may, in the course of his duties, have to 'do work of the most foul type' in order to save as many lives as possible, and should be allowed a suspended sentence for said duties. We have proven that Severus only did what he did working as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix."

"If you are so knowledgeable of the law, Miss Granger, you would remember that in order for such an agent to be allowed out on supervised release that agent must pass into the responsibility of an 'exemplary and decorated member of the community'."

"I will take charge of him. I have an Order of Merlin, First Class. I believe that qualifies me as 'exemplary and decorated'."

"You are young and not practiced enough to deal with one such as Severus Snape! I am overruling your request..."

Hermione knew the time had come. She reached into her pocket, grabbed her grandmother's ring which she had brought with her just in case it came to this, and, putting her hands behind her back, shoved the ring onto the ring finger of her left hand. "I claim the right," she said, trying not to let fear enter her voice.

"You have no right..."

"I do, as Severus is my fiancé," somehow she managed not to stumble on the last word.

Silence overtook the courtroom as that last word hung in the air. Every side conversation had stopped, every eye was on her, and she fought the flush that was threatening to creep onto her face. She chanced a glance at Severus, who was as shocked as the rest of them, but recovered quickly enough to mouth the word 'no' and shake his head once. She chose to ignore seeing it, and took a deep breath before continuing.

"According to the Criminal Code of Wizarding Great Britain, section 9, subsection 1.34 'an exemplary and decorated member of Wizarding Society with a relation, by blood or by marriage, to a criminal being considered for conditional release is automatically assumed to be a suitable supervisor for said criminal, and they will be released into their responsibility'. According to our marriage code an engaged couple may be considered as an established relationship on par with marriage for six months prior to their wedding, which I'll admit was originally to give betrothed couples the rights to communal property should one be killed by a Dark Wizard, or simply to give access to a Gringotts account in order to pay for the wedding, but the vague wording applies to our situation. We weren't planning on having our wedding that soon, but as long as Severus and I get married in the next six months, according to the law. I have the right to have him released to me, and I am claiming that right and demanding that you release him right now with my promise that we'll move up the wedding date."

There were another few seconds of stunned silence before books were retrieved, pages frantically flipped through in search of the obscure law, and small huddles formed as the words were read and re-read in disbelief. Robards himself took the longest to read over the law, probably as he was looking for some way out of it. Out of everyone in the place, only Kingsley and Dumbledore were the only ones who looked pleased with this new revelation, the former looking smug and the latter looking positively proud. She didn't dare catch Snape's eye again, out of fear he might have learned how to kill with a glance, but was surprised he wasn't pounding on his sound-proofed booth demanding that he be allowed to speak. It dawned on her that by his not calling out the lie he was protecting her in a way, she had gotten herself in too deep. Any proof now that she was lying and she could be headed to Azkban herself. And she couldn't bear to look at Harry, who was probably more stunned than the rest of them, and she couldn't stand to see any hurt in his eyes right now. She had to be strong, to convince them, to keep her promise. She turned her attention back to the Chief's podium, defiantly waiting for his ruling, daring them to challenge her knowledge of the laws.

"Very well, Miss Granger," Robards finally said, looking bitter and defeated. "In accordance with the law, you do have the right to take the prisoner into your responsibility. I warn you, however, that the penalties will be harsh if you fail to wed within six months. I would also remind you, Snape, that you will be thrown back into Azkaban for the remainder of your sentence if your marriage does not last the full fifteen years of your sentence. For the time being, however, it seems you are free to go. I'm looking forward to the news of your happy union," he added, slamming his gavel down and dismissing them, and he was one of the first out of the courtroom.

"Well done, Miss Granger," Albus said as Kingsley approached them.

"I must say, Hermione," the Minister said in his rich baritone, "that was quite a turn of events. The Ministry would be proud to have you working for our legal department, if that is a career path you desire."

"Get rid of biased scum like Robards and we'll talk," she shot back.

Kingsley and Albus exchanged a knowing smile.

"Albus, if you'd allow me to escort you back to Hogwarts, I'd love to have a chat with you."

"Go on, seeing as I am in no physical state to object," Dumbledore replied jovially. "Harry, I will see you later. Good luck, Miss Granger, and give my regards to Severus as well."

"I will," she muttered, adding 'If he doesn't kill me' mentally.

Kingsley hoisted the portrait and walked off, leaving her with an angry looking Harry.

"Hermione, how could you..."

"Not here, Harry," she hissed in a pleading whisper. "Let me sort some things out with Snape, and I'll meet you at Grimmauld Place in a few hours. Go, please."

He shot an angry look at Snape, then left. Nervously, she crossed the room towards her murderous looking husband-to-be, who was shooting her sharp glances over his shoulder as he collected a small box of his things from an Azkaban guard. She stood several steps away, looking foolish, as he signed for the box.

"Wait there," he ordered, disappearing through a door. A few minutes later he returned, wearing the hastily mended high-necked suit she had last seen him wearing when he was taken away to Azkaban, dark spots still visible where the blood hadn't been totally washed off. "What the hell were you thinking?" he asked in a dangerous voice just above a whisper.

"That I wanted to keep you out of prison," she shot back at him. He dropped the striped prison garb on the floor and grabbed her by the elbow.

"Professor, I..." she started.

"Not here, idiot girl," he growled. He pulled her through a mostly deserted corridor, and they caught an empty lift going up to the atrium.

"Professor..."

"Best get used to calling me Severus now, Granger," he snapped. "You brought this upon yourself, so it would be to your advantage to play the part for now," he added as the lift jerked to a halt and the doors slid open into the Atrium.

She immediately knew what he meant. Word must have spread about her sudden declaration of her intent to marry a man who was not only her former Professor, but a Death Eater as well. Outside the lifts several photographers were waiting, and it seemed that anyone who had heard the news had hurried to the Atrium to catch a glimpse of the couple leaving and gossip amongst themselves. She felt her face flush as the first few flashes caught them before they even had a chance to exit the lift. She clutched his arm, partially because she knew she must now play his doting fiancé, but mostly because she had no desire to brave the onslaught of disgusted looks and insensitive questions by herself. To his credit, Severus did not turn away from her grip, but rather placed what must have looked like a reassuring hand on hers as he bravely led them into the throng of people, ignoring most of the questions, snapping a couple times that they wished to be left alone, but careful not to make anything that could be construed as a threat. The flashes of the cameras followed their every move until they made it to the fireplaces leading out. Luckily there was an empty one with no flame, meant to be an Apparation point that could be closely monitored.

As they entered the fireplace Severus bent low, his lips nearly touching her ear as he murmured, "Your lead, Miss Granger."

A sudden shiver of nerves came over her, and with it the realization that she would actually have to bring Snape into her private world, but she recovered quickly, pictured the sanctity of the kitchen at her parent's house, and lead him through space to it.

The display was over the minute they landed back on solid ground. For a moment she thought he had Apparated to the other side of the kitchen, he had moved so quickly, but he was looking furious again.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he growled.

"That I was keeping my promise to keep you out of prison!" she shot back.

"I expected an intimate knowledge of the law that only someone with the talent for memorizing books can produce. I expected a long line of witnesses who should have been testifying for the other side. I expected that little bout of tears you displayed. But this is wrong, Granger."

"Best get used to calling me Hermione now, _Severus_," she mimicked his words.

"I hope you realize there are reporters who are crucifying you right now."

"So what else is new? They've been portraying me as lower than pond scum for years, ever since I supposedly cheated on Harry with Krum. I'm used to it by now, and I don't give a damn. But I am committed to going through with this, and I hope you'll stop being so bloody stubborn about it."

His eyes narrowed. "I will be doing no such thing, because I am going to play along just long enough that you aren't called out as a fraud and sent to the cell next to mine, then I'm ending it quickly and going back to prison."

"Please don't," she pleaded. "You don't deserve that place."

"Yes, I do. Don't assume you know half of what I've done," he snapped, turning to leave the room.

"You owe me," she blurted out, and he stopped dead in his tracks, then turned slowly to scowl at her.

"I owe you a life debt. I have to protect your life."

"Which is hard to do when you're inside a prison cell."

"Either way, I do not owe you a sham marriage."

"I'll absolve you of the life debt if you go through with this."

He studied her for a long moment. "I thought Albus was the most manipulative person I had the misfortune of having to deal with, but you certainly could give him a run for his money, Granger."

"If you want to go back to Azkaban and die, it will be neither here nor there to me, Severus. You can go back and die, and this will all be a distant memory. I'll be able to go and marry someone for love and not to keep someone a person who does not deserve to die behind bars out of prison. I made the offer, but if you're so determined to die in Azkaban go and get on with it."

He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine. You'll have a fake wedding, and fifteen years of marriage to someone who is increasingly becoming more annoyed with your presence."

"Good," she smiled.

"But there will be rules. I can make it appear to be a real marriage, I have no desire for it to actually be one."

"Fine. What would you like to work out?"

"Most important thing first: living arrangements. Spinners End is not fit for long-term habitation."

"We can stay here."

"Your parents wouldn't mind hosting your farce of a marriage under their roof?"

"I doubt they'll mind, seeing as they're dead," she said softly.

His look changed from annoyance to shock. "Dead? When?" They had spent hours together in St. Mungos, not to mention her ill-advised Azkaban visit, and not once had she mentioned that her parents had died.

"Shortly after I sent them to Australia. Apparently a neighbor overheard them mention that's where they were headed as they packed up to leave, and Yaxley coaxed the information from her in the Death-Eater approved manner. He wrecked our house, her house, and killed her for the trouble, then contacted some sympathizers in Sydney who were more than ready to meet my parents when they got off the plane. Yaxley's friends killed them as they tortured them while trying to find out where the daughter they didn't know they had was. I'm surprised you didn't know."

"I knew Yaxley was assigned to try to find you, but the Dark Lord was quite like Albus in that he didn't tell everyone everything. The deaths of two Muggles, despite being your parents, would hardly be worth a mention in a meeting, and even if it had, I might have been exempt for my duties at Hogwarts."

She didn't reply, just stared at her hands, fighting tears, and he realized he had said something insensitive, and thought desperately for something to say to make it up to her.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," he murmured.

She looked up at him, studying his face, and seemed to decide he was sincere. "That's worth more than you realize," she whispered, a small, sad, smile playing across her lips. "They loved this house, and said they wanted me to have it one day. I guess that day just came much earlier than I thought. I guess that brings us to sl... sleeping arrangements."

His eyes widened.

"I prefer to keep my old room," she added quickly. "You can have the master bedroom, if you'd like. Yaxley destroyed most of what my parents left behind, and I got rid of it rather than keep it, so we'll have to buy some new furniture, which might be better as you can pick something out that is to your taste. But it desperately needs some repairs and some paint first."

"Okay," he nodded, sounding relieved that she didn't expect them to stay together.

"What are your plans? Are you going to work?"

"Not at Hogwarts. I was stuck in that teaching position because I was protected by Albus, I'm not staying there now. That place was happy to see the end of me, and I am happy to be rid of it. I'm going to try to brew for Hogwarts and St. Mungos, perhaps an apothecary if I can get someone to buy. That should be enough for us to live on."

"If it will help, you can have the guest room upstairs as a potions lab, granted no one will see anything odd from the outside. My neighbors aren't the worst when it comes to searching for gossip, but it'll probably get out that a man is moving in with me and they've known me most of my life, so they'll probably be watching a little more closely for a while."

"I promise that they won't see anything unusual."

"I'm going to take my NEWTs. McGonagall is going to be offering everyone the option to move up a year or repeat, or take the year we missed, and if we want to do it at Hogwarts or from home. I hadn't made up my mind yet, but with this going on, it looks like I'll be studying on my own time here. We have to keep up appearances, yeah?"

"You're resisting the urge to spend more time in an educational institution? How unlike you," he sneered.

"It would be difficult for me to go back. I watched so many people die there... I can't see it as just a school anymore."

His face fell. Even though she had spent hours talking to him about the time she and Harry had spent on their Horcrux hunt, but whenever the conversation got close to the Battle, she changed the subject or abruptly left. And he understood why. She found a place in Hogwarts where she belonged, and, like Harry, Hogwarts was more her home than the place they were standing in. And that home had recently hosted a Battle where people she knew, loved, and respected died. Her dorm-mate was gone, as was the Creevy boy who had found his way back in, but he had a feeling she was more upset about Lupin and Tonks, especially now that she was taking care of their son every few days. If he had a reason to go back, like finishing school, he would clench his jaw and suffer through it, but to her it was no more a school than a tomb, and he knew it was a subject he shouldn't mock her about.

"And after school?" he asked.

"I'm not sure yet. The twins have offered me a position doing the books for their business, as they're planning on expanding and would rather work on acquiring premises and development of new products. I think I'm going to taking them up on it, but I'm going to need to take a couple classes to know how to properly work on the books for a business that size. They said they'd pay for the classes if I signed a five-year contract, but I'll be focusing on education for the next couple years. I've got some money from some interviews and book deals, that should keep up the house for a while. I also have what my parents left if that's not enough."

"I'm sure we can manage on my salary for a while. I have a bit saved away from my years at Hogwarts, that will help if needed. I want you to keep your parents' money and use it for something for yourself later, something to honor their memories. Perhaps a real wedding when it comes time for that."

"Okay," she nodded, looking at the floor. "Speaking of weddings, we have until mid-December."

"If we're going to do this charade properly, we're going to have to be careful about our date. Too quickly and it will seem unplanned, like we did it to get it over with and didn't really care about how special the day supposedly is for us. If we wait too long, it gives the appearance that we were trying to find an alternative until the last possible moment. How does the third weekend in November sound?"

"Sounds good," she murmured, feeling more like she had made a rather unpleasant appointment than decided her wedding day.

"I'll leave the details to you. I have no desire to have anything to do with a wedding."

"Including yours?"

"Especially mine."

They stood for a while, neither one talking, both contemplating the future.

"When were you going to move in?" she asked. "I know I'm responsible for you now, but I trust you to live away from here for the time being if that suits you better."

"As I previously stated, Spinners End is no longer fit for human habitation, and despite the rumors, I am human and probably shouldn't live there, lest I risk waking up with the roof crashing down upon me. I'll start moving things over tomorrow, I'll have to go pick out furniture as well. You may come with me if you'd like."

She nodded.

"I'll probably have fully moved my personal items within a week, it will probably take another to set up a decent potions lab, a few more days after that to stock it, but by then I'll be living here."

"And what of Spinners End?"

A crooked smile crossed his face. "Would it be considered bad form to toast marshmallows over it when I burn it to the ground?"

"You're going to burn it?"

"That will be much safer than exploding it. There's not much that will be left there, but there's enough that someone might be suspicious of what kind of activities I was doing there. Best burn it and be done with it. That will help me get rid of the furniture that's not worth saving as well."

"I'll bring the skewers."

"I want you to know that I fully intend on being involved in the upkeep of the house. I do not expect you to play the role of housewife."

"Good, because I don't intend on acting like one, though, I'll do as much as I can around here, especially while I'm studying."

"If I recall your study habits correctly I expect I won't see much of you during the upcoming months."

"True, though probably much more than you want to."

He looked away, but didn't reply.

"I've put off talking to Harry and my friends long enough. Much longer and I think they're going to send over a search party looking for my body, so if there's any other rules we'd should talk about, let's make it quick."

"I think that's it for now."

She nodded. "I won't be late, but I do intend on stopping by the Burrow to tell Molly and Arthur in person. They have treated me like one of their own in the past months, and they deserve to be told in person rather than read it in the Prophet tomorrow morning."

"Should I be there?"

"No, I think it might be best if you're not, actually. Their house has been full recently for meals, I'm sure I'll be announcing it to the whole Weasley clan, and they are much more likely to hex you than they are me."

"They do have quick tempers and a tendency to be quick to hex."

"I'll see you in the morning, then?"

"In the morning," he agreed, watching her leave and wondering if she realized just how deep she had stepped in it this time.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I've had a lot of people mention how quickly Severus agreed. I plan on addressing that next chapter. Patience!**

**Song for this chapter: 45 by Shinedown**

She had hoped that Harry would be alone, and would have calmed somewhat since they had parted ways at the Ministry, but her hopes were dashed as she arrived at Grimmauld place to the sound of three loud voices wafting down from the library. She took a moment to steel herself, then slowly climbed up the stairs. At first Harry, Ginny, and Ron were talking so loudly and animatedly among themselves that they didn't even notice she had entered the room, but the moment they did they turned on her like a pack of wolves on an injured deer.

"What were you thinking?" Harry demanded.

"Tell us Harry's lying, Hermione," Ginny pleaded.

"Snape!" was all Ron could repeat,; red in the face.

She let them go on for a moment, feeling her face turning more and more red as they begged, pleaded, and threw insults at both her and Severus. "Please, stop," she finally said when she felt tears stinging her eyes. Surprisingly they stopped, but they glared at her waiting for her to say something.

"You can question what I've done all you want, but it's not going to change anything," she said with as much confidence as she could muster. "I said I would do anything to keep him out of Azkaban, and I found a way to keep that promise..."

"Fighting for him in court is one thing, Hermione," Harry interrupted. "We expected that. We expected you to fight the outcome all the way up to Kingsley, start a relentless letter-writing campaign, be a thorn in their side until you got what you wanted or couldn't take it anymore, but not this! Do you understand what you just committed yourself to?"

"Yes. I promised to marry Sna... _Severus_ sometime in the next six months."

"Oh, sweet Merlin," Ginny gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

"The wedding is the third week of November, if you're interested," she added.

"There isn't going to be a wedding, because you're going to find some way to keep him out of prison and not have to become Mrs. Snape in the process," Ron spat.

"Don't you think I've tried, Ronald?" she shot back. "When have you known me to stop looking at just one possible solution? Do you think I haven't scoured every single book of our laws I could find looking for any alternative?"

"You _can't_ marry him."

"Don't presume to tell me what I can and cannot do!" she shouted, refusing to let tears fall.

He looked at her for a moment. "You seem very determined to go through with this," he said in an accusing tone.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I'm wondering if this is as much an act as you're leading us to believe."

Her jaw dropped and her fists clenched. "Are you accusing me of doing something inappropriate with Professor Snape?" she hissed.

"Maybe I am. Why else would you be rolling over and willing to to marry him without a fight if you aren't shag..."

Her wand was pointed at his neck before he could finish, and he found he couldn't speak another syllable. "I understand you're upset," she said slowly and evenly, her voice much more dangerous in anger than when she wasn't a second away from crying, "but if you finish that thought I'll make it so you never speak again. I'll say it once, and I'm not repeating it again, I. Did. Not. Sleep. With. Severus. I have no intentions of sleeping with Severus. I am going through with this because he is a good man and deserves to stay out of Azkaban, and _not_ because we are shagging, snogging, or even that we _like_ each other. I know that it means he and I are going to be stuck in a loveless and sexless marriage. I don't like it. But I have given my word that I will go through with this, and that is precisely what I am planning to do. If you don't like it, feel free to not talk to me."

"Hermione..." Ginny broke the silence following her friend's outburst cautiously. "We're just concerned. Fifteen years is a long time..."

"Yes, it is a long time; Even longer if you're spending it in Azkaban when you have no reason to have to be there."

"There's got to be something else we could do. Someone else who has the ability to keep him out..."

"They were quite intent on keeping him in jail. Unless one of his family members shows showed up with an Order of Merlin and a desire to take responsibility for him, I have to, and I find that situation unlikely as he doesn't seem to have much in the way of family."

"Couldn't we find another girl to marry him? Just long enough to figure out a way around the law?" Harry asked.

"Even if we did find another girl who fits the ridiculously high standards of the Ministry, it would seem awfully suspicious if he were to start going through high-powered fiancés, don't you think? At this point, it has to be me, and any deviation from the plan threatens to expose this as false, and if it is, I risk going to prison myself."

"Why?" Ron asked.

"Lying to the Ministry, obstructing justice, they'd find half a dozen charges to punish me, since they were so keen to send Severus away to begin with. We're both going to be under a lot of scrutiny for a while, and I was hoping you'd make it easy on me and ask how you can support me, instead of being part of the crowd who is going to rip us apart in the press starting tomorrow morning."

They looked at her as if they were hoping she'd change her mind, but slowly Harry and Ginny's faces fell into resignation.

"What can we do?" Ginny asked finally.

"What do you mean, 'we'?" Ron snapped.

"Ron, Hermione is our friend..."

"Just because we're friends doesn't mean I have to support everything she does. And I'm sure as hell not supporting this. I'm not going to out you to anyone, but that's all you can ask of me. And really, that's a lot. But Hermione, I beg you to use that brain we all know is in there and think about this. Go along with it long enough so you won't go to prison, then stage a large and public breakup, get him smashed and send him to a whorehouse if you need a reason, and let him go to prison. You deserve your happiness more than he deserves his freedom."

"We'll have to agree to disagree on that," Hermione hissed.

"Yeah, we will. Because you're mental. I'll probably die of shock if this marriage even happens. Good luck with it, Hermione," he muttered before walking towards the door. There was the sound of his footsteps hurrying down the stairs to the landing, then the crack of Apparation as he left.

"You have to forgive..." Ginny started, but Hermione interrupted.

"No, I don't. Ron tends to not speak to me if I'm not there for him, but seems to have the ability to disappear when I need him. I know he doesn't like Severus, but you don't have to like him to acknowledge that he does not deserve to rot and die in prison, and I doubt he'd make it until Christmas with the way they were treating him. They cleaned him up for his hearing, but you didn't see him the day before," she said, turning to Harry, who she knew would be her ally, at least in outing the terrible conditions at the prison. "They hadn't changed his bandages since he left St. Mungos, nor did they let him bathe. You saw how thin he was, he had to have lost at least ten pounds, and he has not been there long. He all but said he was expecting to die, and I believe it would have happened within a month. He gave up, and I think the last thing he ever expected was someone to not give up on his behalf. No one has ever done it before. Fifteen years isn't going to be so bad. I can take my NEWTs, continue my education, and establish myself in a career, and when it's over then I can focus on having a love life and a family. If he and I split in fifteen years people might immediately figure out that it was all an act, but there's nothing the Ministry can do to either of us at that point, unless they get us on record saying it was fake. If we say that we drifted apart, but I agreed to stay in the marriage until his probation was over, they can't prove that's not what happened, and we can both continue our own lives."

"Fifteen years is a long time to go without a partner, at least a partner who is an active part of your love life," Ginny said, skeptically.

Hermione smiled sadly. "I am a little upset that by the time I get out of this, the so-called prime years of my life will be gone, but if I take care of myself, I should be able to find someone. And really, it might be better for me because people in their mid thirties are more open to a long-term committed relationship than people in their young twenties."

"You're over-thinking this again, aren't you, Hermione?" Harry sighed. "You're trying to justify a crazy move in your head, because it's not what you wanted to do."

"Of course it's not what I wanted, and I'll admit that by the time I found the clause, I was too tired to think of all the implications, but it's not so bad, once you think about it, right?"

"Except that you are going to have Snape as your husband," Ginny said, making a face.

"Yes, well, I think he and I have already agreed that, even though we have to live together, we're going to pretty much leave each other alone. No sharing a room or a bed or anything like that. It'll be more like a room-mate situation, because my... er, our home is safe. We're going to have to do things out in public, especially over the next few months while we plan our wedding, and we're going to have to keep the charade up even when we're having close get-togethers with anyone but the two of you and Ron, but at home, we don't have to act like we're in love with each other."

"Ugh, so we're going to have to see you two acting like a couple?" Harry blanched, making a disgusted face.

"The great thing about my fake husband being Severus Snape is that I doubt anyone would believe grandiose displays of romance or public displays of affection. As long as he acts like he's not totally repelled by my presence, I think we'll be a convincing couple."

Ginny snorted. "You do have a point. A romantic, affectionate Snape might make people more suspicious than a cold, mean git. But it is fun to think of the looks on people's faces if he did do something sweet and romantic out in public."

"People would think I slipped him a love potion."

"As it stands, I'm pretty sure 'love potion' is going to be suggested at least a few times in the paper tomorrow, though I doubt that a single one suggests _you_ dosed _him,_" Harry said.

"It's the obvious conclusion for anyone who can't possibly see me falling for his charms naturally."

"Considering I'm probably going to be one of the first places people will go for information on that, do I have an official comment?"

Hermione bit her lip. "If you are asking what I would say, it would be that it's best to just decline comment. Severus, on the other hand..."

"Would give them a comment unworthy of publication?"

"Yes, and it's best you don't pass on his sentiments on. Best keep your heroic, Boy Who Lived image."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a halfhearted smile. He waited for a moment, looking conflicted and, when it seemed impossible for him to hold back any longer, blurted out, "Are you really, really sure about this, Hermione? I mean, it's_ Snape_."

"I'm not sure about it, Harry," she admitted softly. "I mean, I'm sure that I would rather marry him than have him go to prison and die, but I'm not sure how we're going to manage the next fifteen years. I don't know how we're going to survive living in the same house if we could barely stand being in the same room for the length of a Potions lesson. But I think that if we treat the house like a safe zone, where we don't have to pretend anything, where rude, snarky comments can pass between us without anyone questioning anything, perhaps we will make it through this and be able to part ways mostly intact. I'll admit, I don't like giving up things like dating, but you know me. I probably would have spent more time studying than worrying about boys, anyways."

"What's your story?" Ginny asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what are we going to tell our friends and family who ask how you, with apparently no provocation or prior history of even liking the man, suddenly announced to the whole wizarding world that you are marrying him? We can't very well just keep saying 'no comment' to our friends, can we, and I'll bet we'll be getting hounded about what we knew soon."

"Oh," she said, biting her lip. "Well..."

"It's not like there weren't some signs," Harry interrupted, looking pensive. "At least, signs we could spin towards the story. You are the one who, immediately after Voldemort died, ran back to the shack to retrieve his body despite everyone saying that someone else could do it. You worked on him for, what was it? Something like two hours before Ron, Ginny, and I noticed it was taking you an extremely long time and hurried over to see what was wrong."

"I remember coming in and finding you frantically crushing something to put on his wounds," Ginny scowled, her eyes distant.

"He wasn't dead yet, and I wasn't going to let him die there," Hermione shook her head.

"We know. You were just trying to get him well enough to Apparate him to St. Mungos. Everyone knows that part, but no one thought you did it for any reasons other than you were Hermione Granger, infamous for being compassionate to a fault. If you look at it today, after you've announced your engagement, it almost seems romantic. You ran to the side of the man you loved, whom you thought was dead, and finding him still alive, you worked frantically to save his life, unable to stop long enough to even send a Patronus message, earning a night in the hospital wing yourself from the effort it took. Women will be positively swooning if the two of you say that he asked you to marry him as soon as he woke up, or as soon as he first saw you alone afterwards."

"Swooning?" Harry asked in disgust.

"We've got an uphill battle if we're going to keep the fact that this is fake a secret," she shot back. "Turning it into a disgustingly sappy and romantic thing is only going to help. Hermione saying that they weren't even engaged until that day in the courtroom is just going to be a step backwards. How many people saw the two of you together after the battle?" she turned to ask Hermione.

"A few Healers, and a couple guards at the prison," Hermione replied before adding, with a hint of annoyance in her voice, "Oh, and you, Harry and Ron a couple of times to try to convince me to stop visiting him so much."

"Well, how many people would voluntarily spend their very limited free time with Snape?" Harry replied defensively.

"It's a good thing she did," Ginny cut in. "Otherwise it would be a lot harder to make up this story and make it believable. Now, Hermione, was there anything that the Healers or the guards saw that might be misconstrued as you having deeper concerns about him than you would a mistreated house elf?"

Hermione bit her lip as she thought back. Something did spring to mind, but she didn't want to admit it to anyone. If Severus ever found out that she did it, he'd call the whole thing off and turn himself in out of anger and disgust. But it had been overseen, and therefore might bolster their story, should the Prophet go digging that far and the Healers decided confidentiality didn't apply to the situation. "I..." she started, feeling as though she were sitting in a confessional booth with something particularly bad to admit. She felt her face flush scarlet, swallowed hard, before continuing in a whisper, "I thought it might help him to know someone was there, so sometimes when I was visiting, I would talk to him and, before he woke up, I... I would put my hand on his hand or arm. I would always listen to hear if someone was coming so I could move away before they saw us, but once or twice I was so lost in thought that the Healer was in the room before I could move."

"Ugh," Harry pulled a face.

"Trust me; I didn't even consider doing it once he finally regained consciousness. I enjoy life; I had no desire for him to kill me for something like that. As it is, I think he was close to wanting to murder me for the amount of time I spent in there."

"As long as he didn't express that sentiment to one of the Healers, I think this might still work," Ginny murmured. "How did the two of you get together? It's going to have to be after you left Hogwarts or you're going to have a lot of problems you don't need."

Hermione thought hard. "Phineas!" she shouted suddenly.

"That's right!" Harry nodded enthusiastically.

"Who?" Ginny looked.

"Phineas Nigellus. We stole his portrait from here once we found out Snape was headmaster, originally because we didn't want him passing along information about our whereabouts to Snape, but then we took it along to get updates from Hogwarts," Hermione explained.

"Why would you do that?"

"He was one of very few sources of news from the rest of the wizarding world. We needed information."

"And you lot thought it was a good idea to bring in a Slytherin portrait with loyalties to a man you were all but convinced was a murderer and whom you knew was a master spy who knew how to trick the greatest Dark Wizard of the age, so for him fooling three bored and half-crazed teenagers might not be the height of difficulty?"

"Well, when you put it that way..." Harry smiled weakly.

"He obviously did find out where we were," Hermione muttered, suddenly terrified though the night Harry and Ron returned from the woods with the sword and the destroyed Horcrux was long since past. If Snape hadn't been on their side, they would have died in the Forest of Dean, at least she and Ron would have died; and Harry would have been captured. In hindsight, it did seem rather foolish not to leave Phineas Nigellus at Grimmauld Place.

"Okay, it was a dumb move," Harry admitted, seeming to come to the same conclusion that Hermione had. "But it's over, and it is a way they could have gotten together. Who would question that, in the course of trying to find out how you, Neville, and Luna were Hermione might also ask about Snape?"

"Why would she? She thought he was a murderer. We all did."

Harry snorted and smirked. "Would you question that Hermione had that figured out before everyone else?"

"Why wouldn't she tell you the truth?"

"Do you think I would have listened? Or Ron? There is a long and well documented history of her telling us he's not so bad, and the two of us completely ignoring her."

"Okay, how did she know what side Snape was on before everyone else?"

"Until that day Hermione had never questioned his loyalty to Hogwarts or the Order. Why would that stop with Dumbledore's death? She may have had suspicions there was something else behind it, but wouldn't be satisfied without more proof. Remember, this is the girl who went to the library to verify everything, just say she couldn't get to the library to verify this and so she didn't accept it as real."

"Okay, so for the sake of argument you never accepted Snape as a killer, who was loyal to Voldemort," she said, turning back to Hermione.

"This would be really awkward if I had," she replied.

"Okay, so even if you thought that, why would you have had contact with him?"

"Because I had questions?"

"About?"

"Horcurxes and dark magic and things that he would know better than anyone else I could talk to. Perhaps I wanted to talk to someone about my suspicions about Harry being a Horcrux, and with Ron gone and Harry being the center of my concerns, I would need someone on the outside who knew what a Horcrux was and what to do about the very real possibility that my friend would have to die to get rid of it. Considering the list of people who know much of anything about Horcruxes is short, and most of those were on the other side, Snape and Slughorn would be my only options, and if I wanted any real information that pretty much narrowed it down to one."

"Okay, so in a stroke of not-very-brilliant you used, let's say, a strange owl to contact him?"

"Of course. Hedwig was dead, Pigwidgeon was nowhere around and is too conspicuous a bird, I couldn't just stroll into Hogsmeade and get a post owl, being a wanted woman and all. I found one at night, gained it's trust with some food, and it took the letter to Snape."

"Who placed a tracking charm on it to find where you were?"

"No. My protections wouldn't allow it to track me back to the campsite. The bird returned to the stream where I found it at, and gave me the letter as I did laundry."

"But Snape doesn't trust you any more than you trust him. So when he responds, he suggests you meet somewhere populated, like some cafe in London, and that you will leave Potter, and you agree. Being good spies, you both show up early to make sure the other is alone."

"How did I get away from Harry?"

"Isn't that obvious? Remember, no one but the two of us know exactly what happened while we were on the run. Just tell everyone that you told me that you needed to go to a library, any library, or you'd go nutters," Harry smiled.

"Most libraries don't have magical books," she pointed out.

"But they do have survival books, and as much as I love you, Hermione, I'm glad we're done with your camp food, because it was awful."

"Next time you go on the run remember to take Kreacher, then," she snapped.

"It's an excuse, Hermione, and one I would believe."

"Okay, so Severus and I met at a cafe, I had my first decent meal in weeks, and we talked about the possibility of Harry having to die. And somewhere over that oh-so-pleasant conversation, we were supposed to have fallen madly in love?"

"No, not that time. Perhaps the two of you decided to meet up to try to keep each other appraised of your situations. You were concerned with what was happening at Hogwarts, he was concerned about your progress towards ending the war, so you agreed to meet every couple weeks. He provided you with some groceries, you made sure to position yourself and Harry close enough to a town to make it plausible that you were shopping while you were gone, and no one was any the wiser of your meetings."

"I'm still not seeing how this is translating to the two of them falling in love," Harry cut in.

"No, you wouldn't possibly see two people out on a date as having the potential to fall in love, would you?" Ginny shot back at him.

"That sounds like an exchange of information, not a date."

"If they wanted to exchange information there are ways to do that without meeting in person. They could blame the first couple meetings on exchanging information, but it would be too dangerous for them to keep doing so under normal circumstances. But if they were both so starved for interaction outside their situations, they would take the risk, thinking that they were both bright and powerful enough to take care of themselves should a problem arise. And since it would only take a few minutes for them to say 'things are pretty much the same' any time other than that would be spent, once Hermione cracked and started pouring her feelings out because she can't do that around Harry, they would somehow see each other as a bit of a lifeline. Severus had to be going through some horrible times at Hogwarts, we easily could see the stress building throughout the year, and I doubt you were much better, Hermione. With everything going on, is it so difficult to believe that they found a little happiness in each other?"

"Wait a minute, that makes it sound like it was a physical thing!" Hermione protested.

"Maybe it should be."

"No," she shook her head emphatically. "It'll be bad enough to explain this relationship without people thinking he took advantage of me like that."

"It would be hard to believe he would propose to you with no physical contact between you whatsoever," she replied in exasperation.

"I wasn't decrying all kinds of physical contact, just that particular one."

"Fine. At some point during your meetings you kissed."

"Gross," Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Who kissed who?" Hermione asked.

"Does that matter?"

"Of course it does, at least that first one. It's that person who first saw the relationship as more than just two people who meet to talk on occasion."

"In that case, you kissed him," Ginny said.

"What?" Harry sounded surprised and disgusted.

"Think about it, if Snape kissed her first, he might be accused of harboring fantasies about a student. If she kissed him, and he resisted at first and had to think about it, that means he still saw her as someone untouchable and didn't consider a possibility of a relationship until she made the first move. I doubt he much cares about his teaching position, but it's his reputation that suffers if they think he's had attractions to school-aged girls under his tutelage."

"Okay, so during one of these meetings I kissed him, but he fought it?" Hermione clarified before Harry could object.

"Yes, and it would probably be best to say he canceled the next meeting, and at the one after had a list a mile long about why the two of you together would be a bad idea..."

"He already has one of those."

"Good. Learn it so you can throw a few in during any explanations. Don't list age as the top factor. Something like he thought you were too good for him. That way you can insist that you saw good in him, and wanted a relationship. You then continued to meet in secret up until that night at Malfoy Manor, and after that you were at Shell Cottage with Bill and Fleur and it would be too risky for you to leave. Snape was more agitated after that, Neville, Luna, and I can provide witness to that."

"Severus was more agitated after Malfoy Manor?"

"Yeah, you didn't know that?"

"How would I? I wasn't really meeting up with him or having secret communications with him."

"Oh. Yeah. So you were kept apart while you were at Shell Cottage, and didn't see each other again until you were sure he was killed before your eyes."

"And I didn't stop to see if he was alive then?"

"Harry can say you were too distraught at the sight and that he and Ron, not knowing about your relationship pushed you back towards the secret passage before you had a chance to touch him, and that all of you had to rush back to the castle."

"Better square that with Ron."

"Trust me, Ron will not give you a problem," she said threateningly. "He'll probably just decline commenting on the whole situation."

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a knack for inventing stories?"

"If you spend too much time around Fred and George it's bound to rub off on you."

"If I have to remember all this, we're going to have to go through it again," Harry sighed.

They spent an hour perfecting the story, and drilling each other on it until they were satisfied they could remember it. Hermione agreed to relay the information to Severus, though she wasn't sure how much of it he'd be willing to repeat. Though she figured it would probably be best to have him talk to people about it as little as possible even if he knew the false story by heart.

"Well, I guess it's time for your first test," Ginny sighed when the finished.

"What would that be?" Hermione asked, feeling exhausted from the day.

"Telling Mum and Dad. Let's go. I should warn you that they wanted Harry to invite you to dinner after the hearing. They were sure you'd be worn out."

"And disappointed," Harry added.

"No one had much faith in me, did they?" Hermione sighed.

"It wasn't you they didn't have faith in."

Hermione agreed to go, and ten minutes later found herself walking up the walk to the back door of the Burrow. She swallowed hard and tried not to look terrified as she reached the door. Molly and Arthur had been acting like her parents, and they did deserve to know, but she wished she had more time to prepare herself.

"Hermione, dear!" Molly called as soon as she walked in the door, and Hermione obediently allowed herself to be wrapped in a tight hug. "How did it go?"

"He's..." she took a deep breath, but found she couldn't say it yet. "He's on probation for fifteen years."

"Really?" she asked in surprise, but recovered quickly. "Well, if anyone knew the laws to help him, it would be you, dear. You should consider going to work for the Ministry, they'd be lucky to have you working in the law department."

"I don't think that will be happening anytime soon," Harry murmured under his breath.

"Come sit down, you can tell us all about the hearing over dinner," Molly said, not hearing Harry, and steering Hermione to a chair next to Arthur. "You look like it's been a long day."

"You have no idea, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione sighed as the door opened and Bill and Fleur entered, followed closely by Fred and George.

"Hullo, boys," Molly called. "Good day at the shop?"

"Wonderful," Fred smiled.

"As always," George added.

"Though, as we were telling Bill and Fleur, it did get a bit interesting."

"When we heard quite the rumor about..."

In unison their eyes fell on Hermione, who was sinking in her chair and trying to make herself not seen.

"Hermione!" they said in unison, looking delighted. They rushed over, sat on either side of her, and each wrapped an arm around her.

"Is it true?"

"We really don't want to believe it..."

"...but Patricia Stimpson..."

"...who is interning at the Department of Magical Transportation..."

"... was quite insistent that it was true..."

"... but we have the source here..."

"... so if you would be so kind as to confirm?"

Hermione was blushing furiously, but luckily Molly cut them off.

"Enough, you two, the poor girl just got here and I will not have the two of you hounding her about some wild rumor right now. She's had a long day and doesn't need you giving her a hard time."

Hermione found a sudden interest in the roast in front of her and busied herself cutting herself a slice.

"Mum, if it is what Fred and George say it is, it's pretty serious," Bill said cautiously.

"What could possibly more serious than her health right now?" Molly hissed.

"If the rumors are true, perhaps there is someone else who should be more concerned about Hermione's health than you."

"Who would be more concerned..." she asked, glancing at Hermione.

Hermione swallowed the bite she had just taken. The hints were worse than just blurting out the truth. "My fiancé," she said quietly.

"Your what, dear?" Molly asked, spinning to look at her in disbelief.

"So it is true!" Fred was looking as though Christmas came early.

"My fiancé," Hermione admitted, a little louder.

"I didn't know you were involved with someone," Molly sounded shocked.

"Who is it, Hermione?" George asked, a little too innocently.

She shot him a look of annoyance before saying, in a voice barely above a whisper, "Severus Snape."

"Excellent!" the twins said in unison.

"I'm sorry, dear, I thought you said Severus," Molly smiled with a nervous chuckle.

"She did," Severus' annoyed drawl signaled his arrival before anyone noticed he had even opened the back door.

"Severus!" she yelped in surprise. "I didn't hear you come in!"

"He's really good at that," Harry muttered.

"I received a Patronus message saying Hermione was going to tell you what was going on, and that she might need some support," he said, sliding through the room without touching anyone to stand behind Hermione, a hand resting on her shoulder, though the supposedly comforting gesture only served to make her feel more uncomfortable.

"When... how?" Molly stammered, sinking into a chair.

"It is a long story, that and I'm sure you will hear all of it, but it has been a trying day for both of us, and I do not wish for her to undergo an interrogation right now. It has probably been stressful enough for her to tell you, as she knew you would have a lot of questions and probably a few objections, and I do not wish my bride to wear herself into a nervous breakdown, as she has been known to do. Give the girl a few days rest, and I'm sure she'll be ready to tell you the whole story."

"I came here because I thought it would be better you hear it from me than from the paper in the morning," Hermione added softly.

"Well, the war just finished. There's really no need to rush into these things..." Molly tried to smile, but her mouth would barely upturn.

"Actually, there is," she replied, biting her lip before continuing, "The law that allows me to keep Severus out of prison requires that we be wed within the next six months."

"What law?"

Hermione gave a quick explanation of what the law said and how she used it to keep Severus from Azkaban, but it was Severus who filled in the history.

"It was meant for purebloods, mainly to give access to each others money, but it has been used in the past to arrange marriages to keep other purebloods out of prison. Give a lot of money to earn the right status, marry off your daughter, keep another pureblood out of Azkaban. It fell out of favor around the time of Grindewald, when they found many of his followers were only out of prison because of that law. But, because the Ministry has a history of idiotic responses to things that should have a simple fix of abolishing the law, they instituted the class system of Orders of Merlin, the lower classes reserved for those who gave gold to the Ministry, the upper classes for those who made a true difference in our world with their actions, and made it so only those with first or second classes would be able to invoke the law. Hermione found the loophole and exploited it. I would not be surprised if there's a petition to revoke the law being written as we speak, but luckily for me it cannot be made retroactive."

Hermione looked at him, impressed. She didn't know he knew the law, let alone the history, and wondered if he immediately went to look as soon as he left, still in shock she had found it and used it to free him.

"Well," Molly said, clearly too shocked to fully process everything she had found out that day. "A wedding within the next six months. It will be hard, but we can manage. It will be lovely. You should wear your hair up, Hermione."

"Let's take this one step at a time, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione was worried about her, but Bill moved next to her and nodded, non-verbally telling her he'd stay with his mother until she recovered.

"Yes. One step. Severus, if you'd like to stay for dinner, I've made plenty."

Hermione looked up at him, hoping her face didn't look too pleading, but he was the best ally she had in the room.

"I'd be delighted," he murmured, though she could detect a hint of the lie in his voice, she could tell it was enough for Molly. He sat next to Hermione as George quickly vacated the seat, and served himself some of the smallest portions he could, and throughout the meal, he picked at the food more than ate. His presence seemed to keep the twins in check, and they had only managed one or two snarky comments before Snape's glare changed the subject to Quidditch and whether the field at Hogwarts would be in good enough repair for Ginny to play when she returned in the fall.

As she was leaving, Hermione promised Molly several times she would visit again for Sunday dinner, though she wasn't sure how much the Weasley matriarch was able to process, and made a mental note to send an owl a couple days later. To her surprise, Severus offered her his arm as they walked across the yard, though when she heard the twins leaving shortly afterwards she knew why. They were suddenly actors, and they could not drop their act for a second in public, even at the Burrow, and for a moment Hermione mourned the sudden demise of such a safe-feeling place. When they got to the boundary Severus turned her to look at him.

"I will be moving my first things starting in the morning tomorrow, so tonight I will be packing at Spinner's End," he muttered.

She nodded as a chill passed through her with the realization she would very soon lose the privacy of her own home. "I'll make sure my parents... er, the room is cleared out for you."

"I would appreciate it."

"I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow," she nodded, stomach dropping. How would he bid her good-bye? Would they have their first kiss in full sight of Fred and George? She closed her eyes, terrified of what was about to happen, but he placed a hand on her cheek, dropped it enough to rub her shoulder once, and with a soft rustle of his cloak he was gone.

"Granger! Hold up!" Fred shouted, and the twins came running towards her.

"Yes?" she asked, trying to sound warning, but coming across as scared.

"We'd just like to talk," George said.

"I'm not really in the mood right now..."

"Not tonight," he shook his head.

"Tomorrow," Fred added.

"At the shop."

"That is, if you don't have plans with _Severus,_" he finished in a disgustingly sappy tone.

"What about?" she asked wearily.

"Just a couple things," George said innocently. "Possibly pertaining to your future education and employment."

"Maybe chat about a few new products," Fred grinned.

"You two know that it won't be just me after you if you make me into some kind of guinea pig, but Severus as well," she hissed, and for the first time she was thankful for her engagement.

"Nothing like that," Fred held up his hands.

"Just talk, we swear," George nodded.

"Okay," she said slowly. "How does two sound?"

"Two sounds perfect," he beamed.

"We'll see you there!" Fred waved as they disappeared in unison.

She sighed and Apparated back to her house, directly into her bedroom, where she got out her most comfortable pair of pajamas. She lay on her bed, looking up at the ceiling, and Crookshanks joined her, forcing his way under her arm, and rubbing his head against her hand. As she finally got to relish her alone time, the emotions she had been running on slowly subsided, and she eased her way into sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hopefully it won't take me too long, but I just entered the doldrums between end of summer activities for my daughter, and school starting (when did I get a kindergarten age kid?) so I have much less writing time. School starts in three weeks. Hopefully it won't be that long.**

**Also, I asked this on another fic, but I'm spreading the request. I have an exchange fic mostly written, and I'm in desperate need of a beta. It's an HP/Thor crossover, Hermione/Loki pairing, and I've never written it before so while I'm confident with Hermione, I'd like someone who knows Thor/Marvelverse (Thor much more important) to help me out. If you are such a beta, or if you know one who would be willing to help me out, please PM me (mature readers only, it's an adult-themed exchange). Thanks!**

**On to the story...**

Somewhere between the Burrow and Spinners End, the weather changed. When he arrived in his old street, he landed just short of a puddle, with a dense mist hanging in the air that immediately dampened his robes. There was a time, long ago, that Apparating into the middle of the street would have run the risk of breaking a few dozen rules, but those days had long since past. Even the people who still lived in the neighborhood moved far away from his house, as the rumors flew left and right about that odd Snape and his visitors, several of whom looked like the recently escaped convicts, all of whom looked like murderers, including Snape himself. Now the only risk in Apparating directly onto the street was being spotted by some of the local teenagers, who considered it a safe place to congregate and do drugs, or by a working girl and whoever she was with at the point. Though, to be fair, a few of those only ventured close when he, or one of the other Death Eaters he had been forced to board, called for them. But with the mist and the general discomfort it brought, the teenagers had broken into an abandoned building and the streetwalkers were finding other places to do their business.

He strode to his door, which unlocked to at his touch, and slammed it hard after he entered. He slumped into a chair overlooking the fireplace and the pile of old ashes inside, and decided against lighting a fire. The cold in the house was welcome, it kept him in the moment, and he had a lot of 'in the moment' he had to think about; all of which involved that one annoying swot, who was now his fiancé.

It would take a while to get over the shock of his sudden, unwelcome engagement. Just that morning he had been convinced that he would never see Spinners End again, and he was just fine with that idea. He hated the house, and everything to do with it, but for now it was a sanctuary. It was no longer his home, nor would it ever be again. It would never survive fifteen more years of disrepair, and he had no desire to perform any kind of upkeep to keep it upright. He had not been kidding when he said he was planning on burning it to the ground, there was enough buildup of different substances in his basement that anyone in law enforcement would be convinced he was making something illegal though they would never be able to figure out exactly what, and if one of those idiotic teenagers broke in and tried something there was a possibility there would be a body on his hands. There was a good chance that when it burned down those same teenagers would be blamed, but no one would ever charge them with a crime, as the community wanted to see it gone just as much as he did.

He didn't really need to come back, but he did need a night away from Granger and his new 'home'. Even several hours later, the shock of what she had done had not dulled, if anything, it intensified in the isolation of his living room. It had been a very long time since someone had stood up for him, so the whole group of witnesses Granger had put together had been surprising, even a little flattering. But for the girl to not only defend him, but to also sacrifice a good part of her life for him had even rendered even him speechless for a moment, and it took all his willpower not to expose her lie in the courtroom. He wondered how long she had had to think about it. Knowing Granger, she found the law, knew what she would be able to do, and decided in that instant what to do. But he wanted to think believe that she gave serious considerations to the weight of what she was doing, mulled it over for at least a few hours, and didn't make the final decision to pull her stunt until the words were spilling out of her mouth. If he was a betting man, he'd take the former. He would have to check every law book he could get a hold of to try to find a way out of their situation while still staying out of prison, as Hermione would never agree to any arrangement that sent him back to Azkaban, and it would be poor form to break his promise and send himself back. Though there was always the possibility they would have a giant row and she would kick him out and he'd be back behind bars either way, though the fight would have to be one for the ages for her to do that to him. Granger had more compassion than a Malfoy had money. For now, he would have to accept that the marriage that kept him out of prison was, at least for the moment, preferable to staying in and dying slowly from whatever infection he was bound to contract. He certainly didn't want to give the Ministry the satisfaction of killing him when Voldemort couldn't. Had it been a different situation, even if they had stripped his magic and forced him to live as a Muggle, he never would go along with Granger's plan, but a man is willing to put up with a lot when faced with his impending death.

He summoned a bottle of firewhiskey and poured himself a generous measure. Granger didn't seem like a big drinker, but it was a vice he wasn't willing to give up. Alcohol wasn't the best escape, but it was an escape, even if just for a short while. The drink burned his throat, then dulled to a warmth that spread slowly through his body. A few sips later and his muscles started to loosen, and he decided he had to start thinking about what he was going to have to do over the next few days. He didn't have very much in the way of possessions, his library, clothes, and personal items could be packed in a couple of hours. The lab and his ingredients required a bit more care, but would still take less than half a day. The bigger problem was his main store, and the majority of the items he cared about, which currently resided in the last place he was living- Hogwarts. He was unwilling to give the items up, which meant he would have to face McGonagall, though he would have to give her a few days. Minerva was well known for being very protective of the students of Hogwarts, but even more so when it came to the Gryffindors. And Granger was an obvious favorite. She would not be happy to find anyone twenty years Granger's senior was in a relationship with her, but she would be positively incensed to find out it was him. He could only hope a few days would cool her off enough that she wouldn't immediately start slinging curses at him. He didn't have the luck to hope she didn't catch him in the castle at all. Perhaps if he managed to get a hold of Albus' portrait, he might be able to calm her down. If he really wanted to avoid her he could get one of the house-elves to get his stuff together, but that would require him putting his trust in someone else handling his things... just the thought nearly caused him to shudder.

A few drinks in and the edge of the day was finally wearing off. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that, of all his former students, Granger, or Hermione as he should be calling her, would be one of the easier ones with whom to be married to. Of all the girls who passed through his classes, she was one of the few who was were more interested in the subject than the boys sitting around her. He would trust her better than most to be content living under the same roof without constant companionship and interaction. As long as he didn't get in her the way of her studies, and eventually work, they would get along just fine. It would be poor form to ignore her completely, she was giving up a lot to secure his freedom, but and they would be required to be seen in public on occasion anyways, he may as well treat her to something nice when they did. An outsider would see it as nothing more than a couple enjoying time together, but Hermione would see it as the nice gesture it would be, and at least one of them would be happy in the situation. To be frank, he would have been happy if she had just left him to die on that dusty floor in that god forsaken shack, but when it came down to it, the situation he was in was only marginally more annoying than not being dead. At least it wasn't Potter doing something stupid and noble, and forcing him to live with him for the next decade and half.

Six months wasn't a lot of time to prepare himself mentally for a wedding, and he doubted the Ministry would let them get away with an elopement. He was never a fan of being the center of attention, though luckily even at his wedding, he would be playing second fiddle to Granger. But there was going to be a lot of attention leading up to it, and he would have to push through it as he had pushed through other trying times in his life. For a moment, he was happy that Lucius was going to be in Azkaban for the next year; he would have made his life insufferable. Of course, a little less than six months into his supposed marriage, Lucius would be a free man, and it would start. At least his friend would have to choose his words carefully, any indication he wasn't as changed as he lead the Wizengamot to believe and he'd be back behind bars. The only reason he was only serving a year was for his previous escape from the prison. He decided that at the first mention of Hermione's lineage, he would ask Lucius how much it cost to keep him out of Azkaban this time.

Mentally, he began taking stock of what he had that needed to be moved, and what could be destroyed with the rest of the house. The books would go, as would his personal lab, that part was easy. The furniture was fit for the rubbish bin a long time ago, it was about time to let the threadbare couch, and mouldy mattresses meet their end. He wasn't much for cooking, so his kitchen was not well-stocked. He doubted Hermione would want any of it, though he had a nice set of silverware his mother had saved from his grandfather, who had squandered most of the family fortune long before Severus was born. He would take the silverware with him, though the china set she had also saved was all broken or chipped from various fights between his parents. That could stay. He had very few mementos from his childhood, the ones involving Lily the most important, though he would probably wind up bringing his parents' wedding portrait with him for reasons he could never fully explain to himself. Most everything else he wanted to keep was in Gringotts, the same place the mementos would go to keep them away from Granger. He had casual clothes in his home, and vaguely wondered how Granger would react to see him dressed in something outside the all-black suits and robes he favored at Hogwarts. She had seen him in those wretched hospital gowns St Mungos insisted on him wearing, and the dingy striped uniform of Azkaban, but he doubted either of those outfits were shocking as they were both expected. It would be interesting to see how she reacted if he arrived at her house in the morning wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

He decided to put in an hour's worth of work before the drink made him decide to procrastinate until the morning. The lab could wait, but within that hour he had carefully packed each of his more delicate and valuable books, shrunk the rest and packaged them in boxes, and retrieved everything he wanted from the kitchen and his bedroom together. The last thing he did was place all his mementos from Lily, his parents' picture, and a grainy picture of their family when he was young, into a small box. He placed this on top of his boxes of books, so he'd remember to take it to Gringotts in the morning. Then he grabbed a new bottle of firewhiskey and retreated to his room, the same one he had grown up in, the only one left with a mattress worth sleeping on now that Wormtail had hopped between the master bedroom and the guest room. He drank until his emotions from the day dulled enough to let him fall into a troubled sleep.

XXXXXXX

The first owl arrived shortly after the paper had. She still took the Prophet for some reason, but it was mornings like this one that made her wonder why. It's not like the headline was unexpected, but it still made her stomach lurch. The giant words spread across the page just under the paper's title, and the picture they ran down the left half of the paper was so large it disappeared over the fold. Much to her satisfaction, she and Snape did not look like a happy couple posing for the cameras. In fact, the Snape in the photo was giving a glare that would rival a Bbasilisk, and if she wasn't hiding out behind him, she was trying to escape out of the frame. Deciding she would rather know what was being printed about her than not, she started reading the article.

**The Heroine and the Death Eater**

_Hermione Granger shocks our world by announcing her engagement to Death Eater-turned-spy Severus Snape._

_ When the trial of former Hogwarts Headmaster, Severus Snape, 38, began yesterday, few doubted it would be a contentious battle whether or not the former Death Eater had indeed worked as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, and if so, if his work deserved a pardon from the harsh confines of Azkaban. Gawain Robards, 45, Head of the Auror office, had promised a conviction going in, saying, "We were too forgiving towards Death Eaters after the first war with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and it cost us dearly. We will not repeat that mistake again." However, he did have a very powerful group to contend with, including Harry Potter, 17, Ronald Weasley, 18, and Hermione Granger, 18, collectively known now as The Golden Trio. Also providing witness for Snape was Arthur Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, the latter of whom offered to summon several other Hogwarts teachers and portraits if more testimony was needed. It seemed, however, that despite the powerful showing for Snape, the Wizengamot was prepared to convict, and had indeed sentenced him to fifteen years. And this is when the day's biggest surprise happened. Demonstrating a knowledge of our laws that put the Wizengamot to shame, Miss Granger stood and announced her engagement to Mr. Snape, and cited a long-forgotten law that allowed him to be released to her supervision for the duration of his sentence. The Wizengamot were able to confirm, and Snape was released to Miss Granger immediately. Word of their engagement quickly spread around the Ministry, and a crowd quickly formed in the Atrium to... (story continued, pg 10)_

_Minerva McGonagall: "They absolutely did _not _have a relationship while at Hogwarts" pg 9_

_Healer: "Miss Granger visited him every day" pg 9_

_Explanation of the law: pg 9_

_Reprint of Miss Granger's explanation of how she saved Snape's life: pg 8_

_More pictures, and a time line of their time together from Hogwarts to present: pg 8_

_Former classmates and students react: pgs 11-12_

Once the first owl arrived, it wasn't long before an outsider would think she was giving out free dead mice, with the number of owls that were swooping around her property. The letters were pretty evenly split for her and for Severus, meaning his official address must already be listed with her. Several of his were Howlers, and she had no desire for them to go off and burn her house down, so she conjured up a large metal safe and stuffed them in there. After casting a charm to keep the exploding letters from being heard through the safe, she brewed herself a rather strong cup of coffee and sat down to start opening the letters.

_Miss Granger,_

_I am not totally convinced you are not under the influence of some kind of love potion, as Snape is a Potions Master I don't doubt he'd be able to easily brew one to influence you..._

_Miss Granger,_

_You need to hurry to St Mungos and get yourself checked over, quickly..._

_Miss Granger,_

_You are a beautiful, strong, intelligent woman, which makes your choice of husband all the more confusing..._

She was only able to read one or two all the way through, but most of them said the same thing, repeated over and over. They thought she was under a spell, or the influence of a love potion. They thought the war had traumatized her. They thought she had some unnoticed head injury from the Battle. Not a single one of them was congratulatory, nor even the slightest bit supportive. She sighed and gave up, tossing the pile into her fireplace and poking them until they were all aflame. She then shut her windows to avoid more owls, and headed upstairs. Before she had sent her parents to Australia, they had bought paint for their room, but the cans still remained sealed as they had never had a chance to get the work done. That morning, before the paper arrived, she had cleared all the damaged furniture away and set everything up to start painting, but once the owls started arriving, she was too distracted to get any work done. But the flow of birds had slowed, the new ones would just drop the letters on her back doorstep, and she could start getting the room ready for Severus.

Most everything was ready, a drop-cloth just in case, everything taken out, a radio tuned to her favorite station to motivate her. The one thing she couldn't bring herself to do before another cup of coffee and some nerve-steeling was take down the pictures from the wall that had survived Yaxley's rampage through the house. There were only three that were undamaged: one of her school portraits from when she was young, before she knew she was a witch, her parents wedding portrait, and a picture of all three of them taken on a vacation in the French Alps. She took down the first two, wrapping the school portrait and putting it away, and putting the wedding portrait in the hallway. But she left the last one, still needing a few moments before she could bring herself to take it down. Carefully she opened the paint, a slate blue that had matched her mother's eyes, which had been her father's favorite feature on his wife. She started on the wall furthest from the still-mounted picture. The painting went quickly, she had charmed the paint to cover in one coat, resist dripping, and fill in spots close to the ceiling for a clean look, but there was still some therapy in doing the painting by herself. It was painting over the scorch marks where Yaxley's angry curses had hit. It was starting a fresh, albeit unexpected, chapter in her life. And it was an acknowledgment that her parents would never be returning to take over their space again. That last part was painful, and she was not done mourning, but it was a step in the right direction.

She finished the first two walls, and faced a choice. Either it was time to take the picture down, or she could paint the third wall and put it off just a little longer. But her arm was sore, and she wanted a break. So, with trembling hands, she pulled the picture from the wall, and sank to the floor, staring at it. Through the welling tears in her eyes their smiles seemed to dance, upturning a little more, and for a moment she felt as though they were with her.

"Hullo, Mum, Dad," she whispered. She swiped the tear from her eyes and she started pouring her heart out to them.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Wanting to minimize the number of people who saw him in public, he had arrived at Gringotts the moment they opened. If there was anything to be thankful to the goblins for, it was their lack of a desire for gossip or talking in general, and after proving his identity, he was quickly whisked down to the Prince family vault, which was on one of the lower levels, and woefully under-filled. There was a small chest with some family valuables that had been either hidden from his grandfather or bought back from Bourgin and Burkes with hard-earned cash and a bit of blackmail. Another chest held his money. He had worked for years at Hogwarts with few expenses, and his wages were automatically put into his vault. There were also the royalties from a few potions he had invented, also automatically put into his vault. He came by once, maybe twice a year, mostly when he needed more potions stock, to make withdrawals, but that was the extent of his transactions with the bank. Between the two, he would be able to comfortably live without Hogwarts for a while, hopefully it didn't take him too long to get his business up and running, but if he wanted to take a break for a while he could. The two trunks, as well as some general bric-a-brac like his good potioneer equipment he had put in when he had been promoted to Headmaster and knew he'd have little time for research or personal brewing, was now joined by the small box containing his mementos. Within ten minutes of entering the bank, he was leaving. After a quick stop back at Spinners End, he Apparated to Hermione's backyard. He still felt uncomfortable just entering; though he was sure that time would quickly remedy his nerves. There was a small pile of letters outside the back door, probably reactions to the news in the Prophet this morning, and he scooped those up as he walked in the door.

"Miss Gra... Hermione?" he called. There was a pile of letters on the table, all addressed to him, and a slightly smoking safe. There was a spell on it to deaden the noise, but he could still hear the muffled shouts of a Howler inside. He let off a soft chuckle, there was a spell to get rid of Howlers, but it wasn't written in any Hogwarts book, and he was pleased she thought up a different method for dealing with the annoyances. So he knew she had at least been here at some point. Upstairs he heard the soft sounds of a radio playing, and he could smell fresh paint. Feeling as though he were an intruder, he cautiously walked up the stairs, and made his way down to the end of the hall towards the music and paint scent.

"I don't know if you'd be proud of me or wring my neck," he heard her saying, and he stopped dead outside the room. "He is a good man, and he certainly doesn't deserve to go to prison, especially since he'd die there, but perhaps I am a bit mental for what I did. I just couldn't find any other way, and I looked, I really did. It can't be all bad, right? We'll probably be able to have the occasional meaningful conversation, and at least it won't center around Quidditch like my talks with Harry and Ron tend to go. And now I'll have loads of time to study for my NEWTs and start a job and not have to worry about boys or romance or anything like that. In the end, fifteen years isn't that much. I'll still be young enough to find love and start a family after this is all done. And then I'll know Severus is safe, and that's all I wanted from this. We'll probably row on occasion, I should probably make sure the neighbors can't hear, but I think as long as we respect each other's space and privacy, we shouldn't have too big of a problem. And at least I won't have to worry about him trying to assert his rights as a husband, or any such nonsense like that. He doesn't see me like that; I'll probably always be the insufferable know-it-all Gryffindor brat to him. I just... I wish you were here. To tell me I'm mental or to tell me I'm doing something right, some kind of feedback from people who don't remember him for what he was at Hogwarts. Because it's not the same. It's hard to put my finger on, but it really is different. And I know the wedding is going to be fake, but that doesn't mean it doesn't need to be planned, and I wish you were here for that, Mum. I'm feeling lost and alone, and I could use some parental advice..." her words dissolved into soft sobs.

Severus stood outside the door, feeling more uncomfortable than he had been before. He never had qualms about overhearing conversations before, it was part and parcel of being a spy, but this one was so deep and personal... Sighing, he waited a moment, then walked into the room like he had just come down the hallway. If Hermione noticed there was someone else in the room with her, she didn't react. He put his boxes down in the middle of the room and pulled off the traveling cloak he was wearing over the jeans and t-shirt he had donned for his 'moving day'. Without a word, he crossed to the tray and paint roller next to her, got a bit of paint on the roller, and went to the wall to start painting, trying to ignore the teardrops on the picture lying in Hermione's lap.

"Professor, er, Severus," she said, in surprised, hastily wiping her cheeks with her sleeve and tucking the picture to her chest. She looked embarrassed for a moment, but the look turned to surprise as her eyes raked over his outfit several times.

"You do know this would be quicker with magic," he muttered.

"I... I just wanted to do it this way. You don't have to help," she murmured.

"It's no problem," he shrugged, tapping the roller with his wand to replicate it and handing her one.

"Thanks," she said with a half-smile. She put the picture on top of his stack of boxes, and started on the other wall that needed painting. They worked from opposite corners towards the same one.

"That is an interesting photo," he commented, hoping he sounded casual.

"It was the last photo I had taken with them before Voldemort returned," she said softly. "All the ones after I'm looking stressed, and I'll admit those pictures are few and far between. The magical world all but cut me off from the Muggle one, and by the end of my fifth year, I don't think my parents recognized me anymore."

"That's more common a complaint than you'd think," he nodded.

"I'd imagine. I guess I just took for granted that they'd be there. I should have asked McGonagall to help me send them away earlier in the year."

"You did what you thought was right. No one your age should have to make that decision." He didn't want to tell her there was a good chance they would have been killed either way, and at least the way she did it she got to see them one last time.

"Still, I didn't expect you here this early. I thought... I didn't want you to see me like that."

"Never apologize for your emotions," he told her, a little more forcefully than he should have.

She painted a few more feet. "Is that all of your stuff?" she asked, motioning to the three boxes.

"That's everything from Spinners End but my potion-making supplies. I'll need to get more things from Hogwarts, but that may take me some time."

"Were you still wanting to go pick out furniture?"

"Yes. Were you still wanting to go with me?"

"I think so. I want to look for a new dining room table. We had a glass one, and glass never really looks right again after repairing it."

"When did you want to go?"

"Probably shortly after we finish here. I'm supposed to meet Fred and George at their shop at two."

"Dare I ask why you are meeting with them?"

"I'm not sure. They asked me, and I don't have the nerve to stand them up. I'm afraid they'd take offense, and then I'd have to become Mad-Eye, checking everything that goes into my mouth for months."

"While I admit it would be entertaining for a while, I'm sure it would quickly cross the line into annoying."

They had reached the corner, and it took a bit of maneuvering around him to finish her wall. As she did she took a closer look at his clothing.

"Is there a reason you're staring at me, Hermione?" he asked a minute later.

"Sorry," she said, quickly turning around and starting to clean the mess with her wand. "I just don't think I've seen you wear, well, anything but your teaching clothes or some kind of uniform before. I didn't know you owned anything else."

"There are two months in the summer when even the professors were free to move about in civilized society. I hardly felt like wearing a suit and robes every day."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I just... never pictured you in anything else. It's... different. It looks good."

He was too surprised to respond. No one had told me he 'looked good' before.

She took a quick shower and changed into something with a few less paint drips. They walked together to the nearest tube station, and traveled to a furniture store. He held the door for her, and placed an arm around her when they got inside. She looked up at him quizzically.

"You never know who is watching," he said out the corner of his mouth.

She nodded once, then looked around. It didn't look like anyone was watching but perhaps a disinterested employee.

"Can I help you find anything?" the employee asked, the tone in her voice making it clear she had no desire to help.

"Just looking around, thanks," she Hermione said with the same disinterested inflection to her voice..

They found the bedroom sets first, and she let Severus keep up a commentary as though they were planning a joint purchase. When he chose a dark cherry set, she pretended as though she were excited. The next choice was for the dining room, and this time he let her make the decision while, by all outward appearances, it was a joint effort. He offered his opinions on each set, and talked her out of a glass table similar to the last one, reminding her how difficult they were to keep clean. In the end, she chose to go with a dark wood table with matching chairs that had mis-matching, but coordinating cushions. It went well with the color in the dining room, and would be a focal point without her having to design the room too much. Severus paid for everything, though she promised she would pay him back, and they arranged for the set to be delivered later that day. Figuring they had a little time, they stopped in a small cafe for lunch.

"Did you read the paper this morning?" she asked over sandwiches.

"I try to avoid that drivel," he replied.

"It was not kind to say the least."

"I took that from the stack of letters we each received."

"I wound up burning many of mine."

"Clever. I also applaud you for the way you disposed of some of the more forceful ones."

"Thanks."

"There is a proper way to do it. Remind me to teach you when you get home."

"I'd appreciate it."

They ate in silence for a few minutes. "I'll admit, I'm a little nervous to visit the twins today."

"I would think a few threats to retrieve me would end anything too bad from them."

"It's not them, it's the walk to them. Security got tighter. You have to go through the pub now. And they're clear on the other side of the Alley."

He reached across the table, lifting her chin; then applying a bit more pressure so she was forced to straighten her back to full height. "You are my fiancée. I know it's hard to be, but you should seem proud of that fact. You owe no one an explanation of why we became engaged, nor what lead to this point. If anyone is owed anything, it is you. You sacrificed so much for them, and they return the gesture with a complete invasion of your private life. Just remember that, walk tall and proud, and don't speak to anyone."

"So, you're saying act like you."

"Something had to attract you to me." Hermione's belly did a strange twist then her mind slipped into mischief.

"And I shouldn't just say it's your bedroom prowess?" she asked under her breath.

He gave her a rare smile. "If you must..."

"I might as well start giving you glowing reviews right now. It can only help you down the road."

"It's nearly two," he said, shaking his head.

She checked her watch. "So it is," she muttered, rummaging in her purse for some money.

"My treat, Hermione," he stopped her.

"I can pay. You can just deduct it from the furniture..."

"My treat," he repeated more forcefully.

She looked at him, then smiled. "Thank you, Severus," she said, before she bent and gave him a hug. "Will you be home for dinner?"

"I plan on returning to my home after the furniture is delivered. It'll take several hours to pack up my basement, so do not expect me."

"Okay. Let me know if you change your mind."

"I will," he nodded, and she hurried from the cafe. She quickly found a safe place to Apparate from, and landed in the Leaky Cauldron already moving. It was quiet in the pub and no one took much notice save for Tom's warm greeting, but the actual street was a different story. The nice day brought people out in droves. It took them several seconds to notice her, but when they did, eyes started following her. She heard people starting to talk, but she kept her head up and shoulders back as she hurried down the street, feeling relieved when she finally ducked into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"Hullo, Mrs. Snape-to-be!" George called, waving at her.

"George!" she hissed, as all the people in earshot turned to look at her.

"Come, now, Granger, we're just having a bit of fun," Fred appeared next to her, placing an arm around her.

"You wanted to see me about something?" she asked.

"Step upstairs with us," he said, leading her to the back, and up a set of stairs to their apartment. She sat on a chair in their main room, purposefully making it so they couldn't sit next to her. George came in a couple minutes later as Fred was fetching drinks.

"Is Verity running the store alone?" Hermione asked.

"No, Lee is here, as is Ron."

"Ron's here?" she asked, sitting up straighter.

The boys exchanged a look. "Yes. He saw you coming and ducked into a corner," George said.

"You two wouldn't have had a falling out, would you?" Fred asked.

"A bit. Over Severus," she admitted.

"And how is our former Professor?"

"A bit annoyed, actually."

"I'm betting you two got a fair bit of hate mail this morning," George beamed.

"I burned most of it, so if you're expecting me to read whatever you sent..."

"Now, Granger, how low do you think we'd stoop?"

She fixed a look on her face that clearly read, 'do you _really _want me to answer that?'

"Point noted. But how low do you think we'd stoop when the target is Snape? The man doesn't know how to take a joke."

"I think he would if it's a good joke," she defended.

"Ah, a young woman in love, defending her paramour," Fred sighed.

"Shut it, Fred. Why am I here?"

"Must you always be so quick to get down to business, Granger?" George asked.

"I have a furniture delivery coming in soon, and I have a few more things to do to get my house ready for Severus to move in."

"So he's already moving in, is he?" Fred asked, excitedly.

"Yes. It's part of the condition of his release."

"Not that co-habitation is a bad thing."

"I'm sure it has it's perks," George added.

"Proximity always does."

"It's quite annoying, really."

"Having to Floo to your lover's house when the urge strikes."

"It's so much more convenient to have them in the bed next to you."

"Believe what you want about us, but Severus and I haven't..." she blushed, and looked at both of them, knowing she was about to lie to the experts. "Yet. We don't plan on sharing a bedroom until after the wedding."

"How sweet. He's protecting your virtue."

"Or your eyes," Fred smirked.

"You're not planning on sampling the goods before purchasing?"

"No," she said quickly.

"Right. I give that three weeks."

"This has been a lovely talk, but if that's all..."

"We were going to offer our assistance, Hermione," George said.

"Assistance doing what?"

"You and Severus are the talk of the wizarding world. And we have, thus far, heard four..."

"Five," Fred corrected.

"Five theories as to why this is happening. You and Severus could use a little good publicity."

"And who is better at publicity than those who managed to still charm most their teachers after doing something horribly destructive to the school?"

"We think we could easily make it so you two are viewed as a legitimate couple, and silence the doubters."

"Hell, we play our cards right, you two will have people up in arms at the Prophet for daring to suggest something uncouth between you."

"We could make it so that people will be cheering when you finally walk down the aisle."

"How do you propose we do that?" she asked.

"Use the media against them," George said, as though it was obvious.

"Luna would probably be thrilled to have another exclusive," Fred winked.

"Go to the Quibbler, and put out the truth. Tell how the Gryffindor Princess fell for the Half Blood Prince."

"People adore you. If they truly think you adore Severus, they will root for your relationship."

"If the Ministry says anything or tries to break you up in any way there will be hell to pay."

"If anyone tries to interfere you will be viewed as the victims."

She looked from one twin to the other. "What's the catch?"

"We've been feeling a little ill will towards the Prophet and the Ministry. They seem to have an agenda to make it appear as though they came riding in on white horses and ended the war themselves," Fred replied with a smirk.

"We figured this would be a little more legal then mailing them all dungbombs, even if it's not as fun," George added.

"Plus we want to prove we're quite the friendly place to work."

She bit her lip as she thought for a moment, but it wasn't too long before she looked up at them, a playful smile across her lips. "I'm in," she said, and they broke out in identical grins. "When do we start?"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So sorry for the delay. We've been getting used to the swing of the school things... and I've been getting used to the idea that I'm the mother of a school-aged child. Also, I finished my exchange fic, which is 9 chapters, not to mention has a sequel already in the works. But now that the routine is back to whatever qualifies as normal around here, it's time to keep going with this story. Thanks for sticking with me!**

Hermione was waiting to approach Severus for Luna, to get back to her about the twins' plot to get their story, or at least Ginny's version of it, out to their world. In the meantime, Severus had fully moved in, and living with him was even less than she expected. It wasn't that there was silence between them; it was difficult for her to even catch sight of him. On any given day she would see him once, maybe twice, and only exchanged quick nods or simple greetings. They were going to have to start talking about their plans soon, but she figured she would wait until she talked to Luna to have the conversation. Instead, she did her part for Severus by cooking lunch and dinner, leaving his portion on the counter top for him, and by the time she returned to the kitchen everything would be cleaned and put away. Severus might not be such a good fiancé, but he was an excellent roommate.

That Tuesday morning, Severus had gotten up early. Part of his suggested rehabilitation was to go on daily walks; though when he was in Azkaban that was limited to pacing back and forth in his cell. He had gone a few days without doing any type of rehabilitation, and he had an appointment with the Healer that afternoon, and thought he should try to do a little bit of work as to not appear completely passive to his health. He was just about to walk out the door when the fireplace flared green, and his blood ran ice cold for a moment. He had to remind himself Bellatrix was dead as a woman who looked similar to her emerged, carrying a small bundle.

"Hullo, Severus," the woman said with a warm smile. "I'm Andromeda Tonks. Pleasure to meet you," she said, shifting the bundle to one arm so she could hold her hand out to him.

"The same," he said, shaking her hand.

They stood, looking at each other awkwardly for a couple seconds before Hermione came down the stairs.

"Good morning, Andromeda," she said brightly, holding her arms out for the bundle and cradling it carefully as she drew it to herself. The bundle moved slightly, and Severus realized what it was.

"Hullo, Teddy," Hermione cooed at the bundle, and a small hand emerged to take her finger. "How are you today? You're getting so big!"

The bundle let off a small giggle.

"I'm sorry I'm a little early," Andromeda said. "I thought I could talk to you for a couple minutes."

"Of course," Hermione nodded. "I have coffee ready, would you like a cup?"

"A cup would be lovely. Would you like to join us, Severus?"

"Actually, I was just heading out for a walk," he said. "Am I an integral part of this talk?"

"Oh, no. Enjoy your walk," she smiled.

"Thank you."

"Do you need anything?" Hermione asked.

"I should be back within an hour. If not..."

"I'll send a search party," she smiled.

"Thank you. I'll be home soon."

"I'll be here," she smiled, biting her lip, and he left. Hermione went with Andromeda into the kitchen, and Andromeda poured two cups as Hermione played with Teddy.

"So..." Andromeda sat, looking motherly. "You didn't mention you were in a relationship."

"Severus is... a private person," she replied. "We weren't ready to make things public yet."

"I understand. It took quite a lot for Remus to actually admit to seeing Dora. He was quite concerned about her reputation."

"Tonks and I did not choose easy men to be with."

"It's easy to be with someone you love."

"Severus really isn't hard to be with, once you get to know him. He grows on you, if you let him," she smiled.

"You are probably one of very few women who would say something like that. I've heard he is not a pleasant man."

"He is not a chipper individual, but he is not intentionally difficult. People just find him abrasive because he doesn't feel the need to mince words; he has a short temper and an intolerance for stupidity."

Andromeda smiled warmly at her. "How are you finding life now that you're engaged? I see you've already moved in together."

"I should have sent you a message, everything happened so fast..."

"So the engagement was a surprise?"

"No. We knew we wanted to get married before the war was over, but we were hoping for a long engagement. The Ministry sort of forced our hands."

"I can understand why you would want to wait for everything to settle down before getting married. Things would seem a little less scandalous if there were a gap of a few years between the war and your engagement."

"I wish I had the time," she murmured, shaking her head.

"I'm here for you, Hermione. Anything you need, please, come to me."

"I will."

"I wanted to talk to you about your days with Teddy..."

"I can still take him!" she interrupted, drawing the boy into her body.

"You are doing me a great favor taking him, but I don't want to impose on your newly engaged or married life. Perhaps we should switch to a week-by-week basis?"

"I'd rather default to I'll continue to care for him unless I give you notice otherwise."

She smiled. "I really don't want to trouble you or Severus."

"You won't. I promise. If it becomes too much for Severus to handle we'll have another talk, but he has a lab upstairs, and if he wants to disappear for a few hours he will."

"If you're sure..."

"I am, Andromeda. You need the day off, and I'm willing to give you one every week. I love Teddy, and he's really no problem to watch."

"Unless you're on your honeymoon."

Hermione felt her face fall. She hadn't even thought about a honeymoon. The faux wedding was terrifying enough, a vacation with only Snape for companionship seemed like a whole new level of hell. She recovered, smiling. "We haven't really talked about it, or even the wedding, at all yet."

"I'd be happy to help you with whatever you need. I can take you dress shopping. Dora didn't really get to shop, she just wore something she had sitting around," she added sadly.

"I'll let you know," Hermione said kindly. "I'd be honored to have your opinion."

A clock started to chime. "I better run," Andromeda stood and gave Teddy a kiss. "I'll see you at eight?"

"It doesn't have to be exact," Hermione smiled. "Take your time and enjoy yourself."

"You really are a lovely young woman, Hermione."

"Anything I can do to help."

Andromeda left, and when Severus returned half an hour later Hermione was sitting on a big chair, feeding Teddy a bottle, a book hovering in front of her to read.

"May I ask what is going on?" he asked.

"I forgot to tell you. I take care of Teddy on Tuesdays, so Andromeda can get some errands done and spend some time with her friends. She doesn't have anyone anymore, her husband, daughter, and son-in-law all died in the war. It's been a difficult transition to start, being suddenly without her family, but she had Teddy to take care of now. So Harry takes Teddy one day a week when his schedule allows, and I take him on Tuesdays. I should have warned you."

"You should have," he agreed sharply.

"I'm sorry, but it's not something I'm willing to give up. I will adjust my schedule with notice and a damn good reason, but otherwise I will be caring for him."

"Until?"

"Today? Eight. But he has spent the night before. It depends on what she needs."

"You take the child with no set hours?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I take Teddy because it helps Andromeda. And he's really no trouble."

"Yet," he scoffed. "They grow up, Hermione."

"How bloody stupid of me, thinking that he was going to be this age forever," she rolled her eyes.

"Just keep it quiet," he snapped.

"Cast a silencing charm," she retorted, lifting Teddy up and placing him on her shoulder to burp him. Severus looked at the infant, distaste written across his face. The infant looked back, a content smile across his lips. Suddenly the hair changed from brown to black, his eyes darkening as well as he let off a soft belch. Severus sneered and stalked towards the stairs.

"You must intrigue him," Hermione said, examining Teddy. "He doesn't change his look unless he's interested; it's involuntary at this age."

"Oh, the joy," he shot back. "I finally have a child who finds me interesting enough to pay attention. If only the students at Hogwarts were such an age." He swept up the stairs to his lab and shut the door.

"Don't listen to him, he's just a crabby old git," Hermione cooed as Teddy's hair and eyes turned back to match hers. "Are you ready to go to the library?"

Teddy giggled as she tickled his stomach, then she changed him and packed a few things before putting him in a pram as he fell asleep and walking out her door. It took some negotiating to get him down the steps, and she paused when she was sure no one was looking to cast a stasis charm on him so he couldn't change appearance. The Muggle library was a mile and a half away, a nice walk in the pleasant weather, and they held a session for babies every Tuesday. She greeted the familiar librarian when she walked in and made a beeline for the children's section, arriving just on time for the babies' group. She laid a newly awake Teddy on his stomach on the floor with some toys as another librarian started strumming a guitar. Hermione sat behind him, clapping along, and smiling at a few of the more familiar faces.

"Is that an engagement ring?" asked Cynthia, the youngest mother there at just three years older than Hermione, when the kids were given some time to interact with each other and some toys as the librarian read a book.

"It is," Hermione whispered back.

"Congratulations!" she whispered. "What's his name?"

"Severus Snape."

"Severus? That's a... unique one."

"He is a unique man."

"How long have you been seeing each other?"

"We've known each other for several years."

"Ah, school sweethearts?"

Hermione burst into laughter. "Not quite. We couldn't stand each other."

"And yet you're marrying him."

"He's a good man, deep down."

"This sounds like it could turn into one of those bodice rippers upstairs. Is he good looking enough to make the cover?"

"If by good looking you mean tall, dark, unconventionally handsome, but a bit on the peaky side."

"Intelligent?"

"The smartest man I've ever known."

"Good for you," she smiled, and they grew quiet as another song started, and Hermione felt a little more confident about her ability to carry on the charade in public.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione found it no coincidence that it took Severus less than ten seconds to emerge for his dinner after Andromeda left with Teddy.

"Did you even eat lunch?" she asked as he came down the stairs.

"I got food while you were gone. Where did you disappear to?" he replied shortly, sitting at the table and summoning his plate from the counter.

"The library," she said, sitting across from him.

"Some things never change," he rolled his eyes.

"No," she replied. "Some things don't. Which is why I need to talk to you."

"About?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I feel like making a bit of a public statement."

"I thought we were both of the mindset that silence was the best option when dealing with those idiots at the Prophet."

"I'm not talking about the Prophet," she smirked.

His eyes narrowed. "You are talking about that rag Lovegood runs."

"I am," she nodded.

"That supposed brilliance is not much when it comes to creativity, is it?"

"There are a lot of people talking out there, and I'd rather they be talking about the right story instead of passing around rumors and lies like they are now."

"And you think the proper way to do this is through the Quibbler?"

"It's worked before," she pointed out.

He huffed, and looked away, slowly eating. She sat in nervous silence for a while, waiting for him to say anything, but he finished his dinner, cleaned the kitchen, and was halfway up the stairs before calling over his shoulder, "Go ahead, Hermione. Merlin knows you'll pester me into it eventually."

"Thank you!" she called cheekily back, and she hurried to the Floo to call Fred and George.

The twins set up a photo shoot and interview with Luna and a professional photographer at their house that Thursday. Hermione woke up the morning of the interview full of nervous energy. Severus, however, was nowhere to be found as she ate breakfast, showered, and got dressed. The twins showed up an hour before Luna was supposed to arrive, and immediately started to appraise her.

"What?" Hermione asked irritatedly as they whispered to each other.

"Hermione, you know we love you like a sister, right?" Fred asked.

"And we would never say anything like this if it weren't an important day," George added.

"But what you're wearing..."

"It doesn't work."

"Could you go upstairs and change?"

"Into what?" she asked.

"Something sexy," the said in unison.

"Sexy?" she gasped.

"You know, something eye catching, head turning," George prompted her.

"Something that doesn't make you look like some young girl fresh out of Hogwarts," Fred nodded.

"I'm not even done with Hogwarts," she reminded them.

"Yeah, that's not going to work with you marrying Snape. Forget that you're going back to school. You are a mature woman, not a young school girl."

She looked between the two and decided that it wasn't worth the fight.

"I'll be back down in a little bit," she muttered, heading upstairs to her room. She stripped off the jeans and t-shirt she was wearing, and stood in her white cotton knickers and bra in front of her closet.

"What is sexy?" she mused aloud, as though something would fly to her with her request. She had never had to dress sexy before, she wasn't sure she even had anything that would even remotely qualify. So what was sexy? She thought about the women in the magazine she had found in Ron's room. When they were wearing clothes, everything was tight, short, and revealing. So, that was considered by men to be sexy. She had skirts from a couple years prior, those should be a bit short on her, and the shirts would be tight. If she didn't button the top buttons she would be showing some skin, hopefully enough. She pulled out a black pencil skirt that landed a little higher than mid-thigh, a blue button up, and some pumps. She pulled her hair loose and mussed it up a bit, put on some dark eye makeup and red lipstick, and went downstairs. Snape was standing by the twins, wearing his traditional black outfit, though without the billowing robes. They turned to look at her, and immediately the twins bit their lips to keep from laughing.

"What is that?" Snape asked, scowling.

"They told me to dress sexy," she replied softly, face burning red.

"That looks like what Pince wears when she's trying to get a night with Filch," he shook his head.

The twins had identical look of horror, and stepped into the kitchen where they burst into laughter.

"I'm sorry I don't know how to sexy is supposed to look," she snapped.

He studied her for a moment. "Would you like me to help?" he asked.

"I don't think I own anything that would qualify as sexy," she said, flushing again.

"You forget again that you are a witch," he snapped.

"I don't know what..."

"Upstairs," he ordered, taking her wrist and pulling her up the stairs to the guest room.

"Oi! They're going to be here soon. Quick shag only!" George called after them.

Snape slammed the door shut. He spun her so she could look at herself in the mirror.

"You look like you should be dancing on a table," he snapped, appraising her.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what..."

"Quiet," he ordered softly. "May I change it?"

"Yes. Whatever you need to do. I don't want to look like an idiot."

"Close your eyes."

She did, and she felt his wand moving over the fabric, which changed from her neck down to the hem. Her bra disappeared. She felt her hair go sleek and soft, and the makeup leave her face. The heels on the pumps dropped an inch and she felt them change into boots.

"Acceptable," Snape said after a moment, and he left the room. She opened her eyes and crossed to the vanity to look at herself. She was now wearing a high-necked black dress with a black lace overlay, though when she turned, she was shocked to realize her back from her shoulders to just above her rear was exposed, and the hem now fell just below mid-thigh. The ankle-high heeled boots were studded, giving an edge to the outfit. The heavy makeup was gone, though she still had enough to make her look a little more sophisticated. Her hair had been tamed, and fell in soft waves to just below her shoulders. She stared at herself for a long moment before she realized that her look was what Severus found sexy. She didn't have to show a lot of skin, though she wasn't totally covered with her back exposed and enough of her legs to be intriguing without looking cheap. He didn't need someone who wore a lot of makeup, made a fuss with their hair, or wore something flashy. And it made sense to her. Severus was a man who found beauty in subtlety, it would make sense he'd be attracted to the same. And it was somewhat of a relief. When they went out together she felt much more comfortable in this dress than the outfit she had picked out herself.

She took a deep breath and wandered back down the stairs. This time Fred and George were speechless, each looking her over several times until she was standing in front of them.

"Is it okay?" she asked, turning around so they could see the whole thing.

"Thank Merlin you're my sister in spirit only, or the thoughts that just passed through my head would make me disgusted," Fred murmured.

"Weasley!" Snape barked.

"Sorry. But she looks..."

"Bloody fantastic," George nodded enthusiastically. "Why didn't you put that on the first time?"

Hermione looked at Severus, who shook his head once. "I didn't know it would work for this," she lied. "I thought it was too modest. I'm not good at the sexy thing."

"I think you've got the sexy thing spot-on, Hermione."

"Come on," Fred motioned. "They're here, and want to set up for pictures in the back yard."

She followed the men out, and found Luna and a woman who would probably look more eccentric if she wasn't standing next to Luna waiting for them. There were some lights set up for the photos in her modest garden. Despite her stomach twisting itself into knots, she appeared as calm as possible as she stepped forward.

"Hullo, Luna," she said, accepting her blonde's friend's hug. "How are you?"

"I'm good, Hermione, thank you for asking," Luna smiled. "Congratulations on your engagement."

"Thank you."

"I was worried for you for a while there."

"About what?" she raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you might have fancied Ron," she laughed. "I don't think you are right for him, or he is right for you. Severus seems a much better match."

Once again Hermione was momentarily struck dumb by Luna's ability to put things so bluntly, but she immediately began to smile. The further into this engagement she got, the more support she realized that she had, though there was a pit in her stomach knowing they were supporting a lie.

"Monica only has a little time, so I thought we'd do the pictures first, and then we can all sit down and talk," she said, motioning towards the photographer. "I think three or four good photos would go well with the story, don't you?"

"Sounds good," Hermione nodded, going to introduce herself to the photographer, who took over. She grabbed Severus first, who moved into position without a fight.

"Now, you, go to him. Let him hold you," Monica pushed her towards Severus. Hermione walked stiffly towards him, standing close but not touching him. He reached out and placed an arm around her, but didn't know what to do with his other hand, so he didn't move it.

"Okay, are you two in love, or taking a bloody mug shot?" George shouted.

"You could at least look like you're interested in each other," Fred added.

"I don't know..." Hermione bit her lip, and took a deep breath. Severus had led her through several things already; it was time for her to try to take the reigns. She turned so she was facing Severus and wrapped an arm around him, her other hand finding his free hand and entwining her fingers with his. Being as bold as she could, she leaned into him, feeling his hand snake around her waist to hold her to him, and looked up into his eyes. His eyes and his voice would get her through; they were the two parts of him she secretly adored. His eyes showed all his emotions, if you looked at them hard enough. Looking down at her, she could tell he was amused by the situation just by looking into their depths.

"Am I being too bold, Professor?" she whispered, smiling, waiting for his reaction to the title.

"Only with the use of that word, at least for the purpose of appearances to the public," he replied, the corner of his mouth upturning as the camera flashed, but disappearing the moment the flash was gone.

"I feel like a bloody idiot," she smiled.

"It could be worse."

"I'm in no mood to say something that will make it worse."

"Perhaps I shouldn't ask you to dinner, then," he raised an eyebrow.

"Pardon me?"

"I figured this would take a good portion of our afternoon, you are already dressed up; perhaps we should go out and celebrate our engagement."

"Oh. Okay. That sounds..." she bit her lip, unsure of how to finish the thought.

"Tolerable?" he offered.

"You have such a way with words," she rolled her eyes, but smiled.

"You volunteered for this. You knew at some point we would have to pretend we enjoy each other's presence."

She leaned forward, so her lips practically touched his ear. "I think it's more than just our presence we're going to have to pretend we enjoy," she breathed as the camera flashed.

He smirked, letting go of her hand, so he could cup her cheek with his thumb, his fingers lightly resting on her neck. "I thought you were playing the innocent girl. Shall I pretend I've managed that feat already, Hermione? Or should you still blush at the mere mention of the bedroom?"

As if it were and order, the thought of them in the bedroom fluttered across her mind. She felt her cheeks flush, her lips part, and her eyes flutter closed. She saw the flash through her eyelids, and she took a deep breath to compose herself, wondering how she even managed the thought.

"I think we've got our shot here," Monica announced. "Let's wander a bit and get a few more."

The rest of the shots were utterly benign: them walking through her garden, pretending to cook together, reading side by side in her library. It was over in less than an hour, and once Monica had gone, Hermione fetched everyone some wine, and they headed to the sitting room to talk. The interview took two and a half hours, with Luna's tendency to wander off-topic. Severus would usually only tolerate a few minutes before sharply suggesting they get back on track. Hermione admonished him a couple times for being too harsh, but secretly she was relieved he was being slightly impatient with Luna, as there was a chance her friend would have them there all night if left to her own devices. When they finally ushered her and the twins out at six, Hermione was ready to collapse.

"That is the only interview I am willing to do, so don't ask again," Severus grumbled, pouring himself a drink.

"You won't hear me objecting at all," she sighed, sinking into an armchair and closing her eyes as she let her head roll back to try to alleviate some of the stiffness in her neck.

"Do you have a preference for dinner?"

"Anything I don't have to cook."

"Having difficulty making a spontaneous decision without Potter around? You could be decisive."

"So could you," she shot back.

"Fine. Finish your wine, and we'll leave."

She purposefully took her time, reading the paper as he started to look impatient. At quarter to seven, she took her wine glass to the kitchen sink and announced she was ready to go. Without a word, he offered her his arm, and Apparated her to a quiet restaurant just off Diagon Alley in Wizarding London. Since it was a weeknight, they were seated quickly. They managed polite conversation in hushed voices no one would be able to overhear, and Hermione tried her best to look not just interested, but enthralled with what he was saying, though she would be amazed if her acting convinced anyone. It was during their entrees that Hermione noticed something.

"I think we have a watcher," she murmured as she smiled at him.

"We've had several. The patrons dining with us are more discrete, but I do believe the one outside has a camera," he replied, though his eyes didn't leave her face.

"I can't believe they aren't taking pictures through the window," she grumbled.

"The owner would not allow it," he replied.

"Do you know the owner?"

"Yes. Narcissa Malfoy."

"Narcissa Malfoy?" she repeated, unable to keep the surprise from her face.

"The Malfoys are not wealthy from sitting around their manor doing nothing. They have made many wise, and mostly behind-the-scenes business decisions. You will find Narcissa dining here on occasion, and rarely coming in to do some work, but she knows it would be best for her not to be seen as the owner at the moment, with the current sentiment towards the former followers of the Dark Lord."

She looked at her mostly finished plate of food, and had the sudden urge to 'accidentally' tip it onto the floor, but didn't want to make a scene during her first 'date' with Severus, and gamely put another bite into her mouth.

"Are you ready to leave?" he asked when he had paid the check.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," she muttered, knowing he was more asking if she was ready to act in front of the camera again.

He held a hand out to help her from her seat, and she clung to his arm as they walked out the door to the expected flash.

"Why don't we walk a little? It's a nice night, and I'm not ready to go home just yet," she suggested.

He shot a look at the photographer, but nodded. She took his arm and they made their way onto Diagon Alley, stopping to marvel at Fred and George's new display of items for cheap laughs and back-to-school. They stopped into Flourish and Blotts and got three new books apiece, and took a few minutes to talk to the shopkeeper, who offered his congratulations to two of his best customers.

"Is it time to leave?" she asked as they left the shop.

He looked up and down the street. The photographer was at Quality Quidditch Supplies trying to act as though he were admiring the new brooms.

"Forgive me for this, Hermione," he muttered, reaching down to cup her face and draw it up to look at his. She didn't comprehend what he was about to do until his head was dipping towards hers. Her lips parted in a near panic, and she shut her eyes out of terror.

Then his lips were on hers, and she was surprised at how soft they felt. She stood stiffly for a moment, then relaxed a little as she realized he really wasn't that bad. The touch of his lips was surprising, and while the kiss was firmer than the ones she had shared with Krum, they weren't disgustingly demanding like Cormac's. The kiss only lasted a couple seconds, and there was a tell-tale flash that let her know their private moment wasn't so private.

"Home then?" she whispered, her face still close to his, and in the next second she felt them Apparating to her home. His hands were quickly off her, and he disappeared up to his room without a word, leaving her standing alone, lost in thought.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione decided that the only reason Severus would kiss her would be for the camera, and went to bed pushing the memory of it from her mind. She slept in the next morning, and waited until she heard Severus lock himself in his lab to leave her room and go down to make herself some breakfast. The post arrived as she was eating some cereal, but she put it to the side on top of the face-down Prophet as she gathered up her book and a cup of pumpkin juice, and went to her sitting room to read. She was so lost in the book that she didn't notice the fireplace suddenly spout green and deposit her two best friends into the room.

"From now on, if there's going to be a picture like that in the morning paper, could you warn us?" Ron said loudly in greeting as he dropped into a chair. "I was eating breakfast and completely lost my appetite."

"You'll find it again within an hour," she snapped, closing her book and putting it down.

"Why didn't you tell us, Hermione?" Harry asked, sitting next to her.

"Would it be any less shocking if I just told you?" she raised an eyebrow.

"At least we would know to avert our eyes," Ron said a little too loudly.

"It can't be that bad."

"You didn't see it?"

"I haven't looked at the paper yet," she shrugged then summoned the paper and the post from her kitchen. She put the post aside, and flipped the paper over, not surprised to see the picture of her and Severus in front of Flourish and Blotts featured prominently in the middle of the front page. She watched as Severus drew her in and kissed her, and she was a little surprised at how short of a kiss it was. It had felt much longer.

"I don't see anything wrong with it," she said, tossing the paper on the table without reading the headline or any part of the story. "Are they still speculating that I'm being given a love potion?"

"Rita Skeeter wrote the article," Harry replied.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'. Or is she speculating I'm using him for some awful purpose? She would hate to portray me as the victim."

He chuckled. "I think she's conceded that you are less repulsive than Snape, and therefore she has to frame it that he's somehow hoodwinked you."

"She's a cow."

"You've expressed that sentiment before. Is there a reason Snape kissed you?"

She shrugged. "We're supposed to be so madly in love we don't give a damn what the wizarding world thinks, we're going to get married no matter the resistance. I suppose part of being convincing is showing a little affection, and we hadn't really to that point. It's an act, you know that, and he's a bloody good actor."

"Oh," he looked blandly at her for a moment. "Good. I guess I never thought of it like that before."

"And you want warning, Ronald? We're going to have to kiss at the wedding, too."

"Any luck there won't be a wedding," Ron shot back. "Have you been looking?"

"I've flipped through a couple books, but I have to be careful where I get them from. The wrong person sees me with the wrong book, and we'll be under even more suspicion."

"Just keep looking. You can't marry Snape."

Her eyes narrowed, then she decided it was best to get off the subject before she and Ron wound up having another one of their legendary fights. "Is there a reason you've come barging into my house this early in the morning?" she asked.

"Yeah. Did you read your letter from Hogwarts yet?" Harry asked.

"Letter from Hogwarts?" she muttered, picking up the post. The first three letters were from strangers, probably reaction to the photo, so she tossed them aside. Under that, were two letters bearing the distinctive seal of Hogwarts, one for her, and one for Severus. She quickly opened it, and pulled out a piece of parchment with McGonagall's familiar handwriting.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_I am pleased to announce that renovations at Hogwarts are progressing nicely, and the school will be prepared to begin a new school year, the 1st of September. To start, I will announce that I am now Interim Headmistress. We will be instituting some staff changes, but as of now, a final faculty list cannot be compiled. We will announce staff structure as soon as all positions have been filled. Gryffindors will note that your new Head of House will be Rubeus Hagrid, who is also returning as the Care of Magical Creatures professor._

_We understand that most of our students feel as though their education from the school year prior was lacking, and this issue has been discussed by the current faculty as how to best address the situation. We have decided that all students who were in seventh year, or would have been had they been able to attend, be given the following four options from which to choose:_

_– You will be allowed to return as a full time student, be housed in a special dormitory only for those designated at '8th year', take classes with the seventh years, and sit your NEWTs at the end of the school year._

_– You may return as a student for half the year, be housed in the special dorm, and take accelerated classes, focusing mainly on refreshing the material you learned last year, and sit the NEWTs during a special session before Christmas break._

_– You may study on your own at home, and opt to take the NEWTs at the sitting of your choosing. This option will require permission from your head of house._

_– You may choose not to return to Hogwarts, and proceed with no NEWT scores._

_There will be an informational meeting this upcoming Monday, 24 July in the Great Hall at Hogwarts for all students currently in possession of their Apparation license. Please arrive at the Hogsmeade station at 9 o'clock, and the carriages will be available to take you to the school. Please be prompt._

_Best regards,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Interim Headmistress_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

"Hagrid as Head of House? That must be terribly exciting for him," she smiled, folding the letter.

"Ginny got a letter, too," Ron said. "The rest of the students don't have the option to not come, but they do have the option to repeat their year if they so choose. And the Professors have to work out new schedules for that half term, not to mention make a few more fixes to the school. Things are going to be quite crazy around there this summer, trying to sort it all out."

"Why is McGonagall only Interim Headmistress?" she mused aloud.

"Because your fiancé never formally resigned his position. It seems because he was abandoning Hogwarts as part of his duties to help keep the school safe, and not because he was fleeing danger, the school is still recognizing him as Headmaster," Harry said. "McGonagall can't get into the Headmaster's office, or Snape's chambers."

"Wouldn't he have the Headmaster's chambers?"

"He chose to keep his old ones last year."

She gazed up the stairs. There was little mystery as to why Snape refused to occupy Dumbledore's old chambers, though his refusal was precarious, with the risk of Voldemort over his head. He probably only took the office reluctantly.

"How do you know this?" she asked, quickly looking back at her friends.

"Dad," Ron told her. "The Ministry is trying to help McGonagall fill positions. They even went to Fred looking for a Transfiguration Professor."

"Fred?" she laughed.

"Say what you will, he and George are really good at magic," Ron smiled. "And everyone is so busy trying to sort out the Ministry... it's a terrible time to try to be filling positions."

Hermione bit her lip as her face fell, knowing that there were so many positions to fill because there had been so many deaths, and many officials in the Ministry were now occupying Azkaban they would have their hands full trying to sort out qualified successors there as well.

"I think that letter is asking Snape about his intentions. They need a Defense professor," Harry nodded towards the letter for Severus.

She snorted. "They better keep looking."

"They're that desperate."

"He won't care if they triple his salary and promise he'll be allowed to cast a permanent silencing charm on any student who bothers him, he doesn't want to go back."

"I get it. They really want an Auror, but they're in short supply at the moment."

"What? Did they ask you yet?"

"Sweet Merlin, can you imagine how horrid that would be?" Harry smiled. "No, they haven't asked me to be Professor Potter yet, though if they don't find one soon I wouldn't be surprised. Hell, I'm actually surprised they haven't approached you, yet."

"They probably haven't talked to either of you because both of you are still possible students. I don't think they let you have a lesson off to go to another lesson," Ron pointed out. "Turn them down on Monday, and I bet one of you will have a job offer before walking out the door."

"I'm turning them down, and I already have an offer," Harry pointed out. "As do you. We're starting Auror training the week after."

"That doesn't mean they won't stoop to ask," he shrugged.

"Could you imagine me as Professor Potter?" Harry chuckled. "I'd be sending Hermione three owls a day asking what the hell I'm supposed to be teaching that day, because I didn't pay attention."

"What about Professor Granger? That one sounds plausible."

"It won't be happening," Hermione emphatically shook her head. "Even if they did offer, I plan on taking my NEWTs."

"What about the year after?"

"Do you really think Hogwarts can handle another Professor Snape?"

Harry and Ron made identical disgusted faces, but Harry recovered into a shrug. "I think you'd make an excellent Professor," he smiled.

"Maybe one day in the future, but not while Severus and I are married. I can't ask him to go back there."

"You know, he owes you every favor he can throw at you for keeping him out of prison," Ron scowled.

"I still wouldn't do that to him. That place is a giant horrible memory to him."

"So, you'll be taking option three, then?"

"I have to," Hermione sounded disappointed. "I'm supposed to be in love, and we're getting married in the middle of term. And Severus has to live with me. If he won't live back at Hogwarts, I can't."

"Why are you sacrificing so much for him, Hermione?" he sounded irritated. "You obviously want to go back to Hogwarts. He won't even give you a year?"

"I don't need a year there. I can study, I may even be able to sit the exams in December, and then I can start training to work for your brothers. I wouldn't bother returning if I didn't want those grades in case I want to change careers down the road."

"Hermione," Harry sighed. "It may not be real, but you're still going to have a wedding in November, and I'm assuming a honeymoon after. I haven't planned one, but I've heard there's a lot that goes into a wedding."

"Oh, bloody hell, why can't I only deal with one thing at once?" she groaned.

"Because you're Hermione Granger," he smiled. "You're not happy unless you've got ten things on your plate."

"I need to learn to stop that."

"Yes, you do. And, watch out, Ginny is planning a hen night."

"What?" she shouted. "She does know it's not real!"

"Yes, she does. But Luna doesn't. And the Patil twins don't. And it would be good for your image. And, before you complain to me, I want you to take it up with her, because I'm not getting in the middle of this. I've already said too much."

"If I'm not happy unless I'm busy, you're not happy unless you're in the middle of something," she rolled her eyes.

"How do you want to get together Monday morning? I'm assuming you want to meet up?"

"How about eight fifty-nine?" she grumbled.

"Hermione..."

"Eight fifty five. Seriously, that's the earliest I'm willing to meet. I don't want this to be any more of a production than it's already going to be. And I'd prefer to go with as big a group as possible; perhaps we can get Neville and Luna to meet up with us?"

"I'll try to talk to them," he nodded.

"How's your Mum?" Hermione asked Ron.

"I think she's over the shock. She wants you to come for Sunday brunch. Snape, too, though you could forget to pass along the invitation," Ron replied.

"I'll think about it," she rolled her eyes.

XXXXXXXXXXX

He had heard Potter and Weasley talking with Hermione when he emerged in search of lunch, and retreated back into his lab for another couple hours. He was hardly ready to face Hermione again, the last thing he needed was to be accosted by her cohorts. When he emerged again the house was silent, and he cautiously ventured downstairs. Hermione was laying on the couch, taking a nap, a book across her chest. He looked at her for a moment. There was something different about her when she was asleep, when the worry was erased from her face, and her features were softened. It made her look attractive, though it wasn't as though he found her uninviting to begin with. When she was awake, however, she looked older, more world-weary. She had gone through so much in her life, and had to deal with it before she was supposed to be done with Hogwarts. Even he had the luxury of having graduated before his world got turned upside down. Sure, he had the bullies to deal with, but so had she, with the added strain of keeping Potter alive despite his apparent determination to get himself killed before coming of-age. But in sleep, all that was erased from Granger's face, and she looked like an average eighteen year old. Too young. She should be exploring the world with every opportunity open before her, not approaching a false marriage.

He had felt bad for kissing her. He was sure she didn't want it, but they were going to have to show affection at one point or another, and it would probably be best if they didn't wait until the wedding to put on a public display. He was thankful that neither of them were the type to let their physical affections become over the top where others might see, though it would be totally unrealistic if they were to act completely impassive to each other. He would keep it to a minimum, and he was sure she would be grateful that she would only have to tolerate him occasionally.

He went into the kitchen, where she had left a sandwich in the refrigerator for him. He appreciated that she was so thoughtful of him, though he had known she was always mindful of others before herself. It was the behavior she displayed often during her years at Hogwarts, never letting her own emotions override a friend's need. They may have developed a tolerance toward living with each other, but she was obviously concerned over his health. There was a calendar on the wall where she had listed his Healer appointments, she made sure he had access to fresh, healthy food, and she would often inquire as to his well being. He knew it would be poor form to let his health decline and force her to play concerned lover, but she also seemed concerned about his happiness, and he noticed she had made sure to pick up periodicals he might enjoy and leave them where he would sit to eat. That part he was going to take some time to become accustomed to. No one had been concerned about his happiness in a long time, and it would take some time to get used to her concerns.

As he sat to eat he noticed she had placed two pieces of post at his spot. He opened the first apprehensively, as it was from Hogwarts in Minerva's familiar scrawl.

_Severus,_

_As you have never submitted a formal resignation, we must discuss your position at Hogwarts. If you do not wish to return as Headmaster there will be the Defense position open for you._

_Please reply promptly,_

_Minerva_

Short and to the point, as was every correspondence he had with his former professor. And it held no hope that he would actually ease her staffing predicament. He decided to quickly respond, summoning some parchment and a quill, and quickly scribbling:

_Minerva,_

_I'll assume any notion of my return was purely madness driven by desperation on your part. I resign as Headmaster and Professor at Hogwarts, and will return for my things next week._

_Severus_

He put the letter into an envelope and summoned Hermione's owl, who accepted a treat and flew off. The second letter was also familiar, though no less irritating:

_Dear Severus,_

_First, let me offer my congratulations on your upcoming nuptials. I understand why you kept your relationship a secret; however with your recent engagement and the publicity surrounding the event, it would be impossible for me not to know your happy news. I would like to meet your affianced; though I am sure you have reservations considering her background. I assure you, dear friend, that I support your relationship, and am delighted that you have found someone to make you happy._

_Draco and I left Malfoy Manor after the war and we are now living at our estate in Oxfordshire. Will you please join us there, with Miss Granger, next Saturday at noon for lunch?_

_I await your reply._

_Narcissa_

"Oh, bloody hell," he groaned in a whisper. Well, Granger had forced him to give the interview for Lovegood's paper, and he'd be subjected to Merlin knows how many meals at the Burrow; it would only be fair game to force her to come along to visit some of his friends. He was not worried about Narcissa, she had been humbled by living through the war and nearly losing everything, but Draco was more reluctant to change. His worldview had been shattered so quickly, his confidence had taken such a hit, that the boy was still working through his emotions, and more apt to make an insensitive statement. Putting him and Hermione in the same room might not be the best idea when decorum would be called for, but at least it would be entertaining. Narcissa's eye was sharp, however. Their act would have to be spot-on to convince her. Hermione could be remarkably charming, when not riled up. He would have to monitor the conversation closely, and change the subject before she had a chance to lose her temper.

He heard her stirring, and a minute later she came into the room to put the paper and a letter onto the table and went to start some tea.

"You received a letter from Hogwarts as well?" he asked, eying the parchment.

"They're having a meeting for the students old enough to Apparate to discuss our options for returning or taking our NEWTs on Monday," she said, sitting across from him.

"When?"

"Monday. Why do you ask? Are you going to announce your glorious return to Hogwarts?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Does taking a nap often cause you to lose your mind?" he shot back. "I already sent my reply to Minerva telling her there's no way in hell I'd be returning. I wanted to know because that is when she is going to be most occupied, and I may be able to retrieve my personal items with minimal contact."

She laughed. "I would offer to distract them after the meeting, but I'm not sure how I'm going to be received when I get there."

"All the staff adores you. They will forgive you. They will never forgive me, and it's not just because of you."

She bit her lip and looked down at her letter.

"We have been invited to lunch a week from Saturday," he said, motioning towards Narcissa's letter.

"Really? Who invited us?" she asked, sounding surprised.

"Narcissa. It was implied that Draco will be in attendance as well."

She began to chew on her lip, which he found more irritating than merely biting it. "I did not know you were friends enough with her to be invited to lunch," she said softly.

"The Malfoys are some of my oldest friends."

"Of course," she tried to smile. "Well, then we'll go."

"Will you be able to behave yourself around Draco?"

"I promise I won't slap him again. I'll make every attempt to be civil, even. However, I promise if I hear one utterance of mud... that word, and I will not hesitate to leave."

He nodded.

"Good. That's settled," she said, standing as the teapot started to whistle. She made each of them a cup and sat down again, sipping her tea occasionally and staring at the tabletop.

"Was there something else you wanted to talk about?" he asked.

She looked up, and shook her head, but when she looked back down he thought he saw her mouth 'Diagon Alley'. He suddenly felt the need to leave, and, without a word, stood and hurried upstairs to his lab.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The latest issue of the Quibbler arrived with the Saturday morning post, and Hermione hesitated as long as she could before looking at the cover. To her relief it was not as horrible as she had imagined. The picture was tasteful, and to the casual observer she and Severus were having quite the moment: He held her tenderly in his arms, their faces turned towards each other, he leaned forward to whisper something, and she closed her eyes as her cheeks flushed and her fingers tightening on his shoulder. It was like something from a romantic movie trailer, but the type of person who concerned themselves with the state of their relationship would be beside themselves with the romantic version. She casually flipped to the story, and scanning it she knew someone must have helped Luna write the final draft, as it was very straightforward. Three more pictures were featured, nothing so romantic, but her eyes were drawn to one of them sitting together, looking over a book. They had a moment during the shoot where Hermione had found a spell in one of his old books she hadn't heard before, and he explained. She didn't realize there had been a picture then, but it was by far her favorite. He was explaining the motion, a funny little jab he demonstrated without a wand, which caused her to snicker, and her exaggerated recreation brought a genuine smile to his face. She realized that he didn't look as worn when he smiled, his face brightened, taking years off him. It was so easy to forget he was only twenty years older than she; he often looked like he had lived twice as many years.

There was a tapping noise at her window, and she looked up to see an owl there. Opening the window let in several more she hadn't seen, and she realized that she would probably be getting responses to the Quibbler article all day, and left the window open. Curious, she opened a few of the letters. The first gushed about how brave they were for being determined to see each other despite the war. The second promised to write a book based on their story. The third asked to bake their cake, and contained crumbs of what she assumed were once a tasting of their offering.

"What the hell is that?" Severus asked, striding into the room and seeing her with a handful of the crumbs.

"Either a free sample of wedding cake, something to make us horribly sick, or possibly both," she replied, going to the sink to wash her hands.

"Have you started planning the wedding?" he raised an eyebrow.

"No. But our story was so moving that someone is volunteering their services. And someone else is writing a book based on our story."

"People get far too invested in other people's lives," he grumbled.

"We should send Luna a thank-you for agreeing to this."

He grunted.

She sat quietly for a long moment. "I'm going to go for a walk. Would you like to come with?" she suddenly announced.

He raised an eyebrow. "You'd like me to accompany you?"

She shrugged. "Mum and I used to go for a walk every Saturday afternoon before I went to Hogwarts. We still did when I was home for the summer. I let the habit die after my fifth year, but I think it's safe enough that I'd like to start back up. I'm sure you'd like to know where a few things are in the neighborhood as well."

"Very well. Give me a moment to change."

He disappeared upstairs, returning a few minutes later, in a pair of jeans and a black jumper.

"Does it look appropriately Muggle?" he asked.

"You'll fit in well," she nodded. "Let me get a bag and we'll go."

"A bag?"

"You'll see."

She got a worn canvas bag out of a closet and led him outside, taking his arm as they started up the street. They hadn't even made it three houses before Hermione was being flagged down by one of her neighbors.

"Hullo, Mrs. Winston," Hermione beamed, accepting a hug from the matronly middle-aged woman.

"How are you, dear?" Mrs. Winston smiled, holding her hand.

"I'm well. May I introduce my fiancé, Severus?"

"Fiancé?" she repeated, but the concerned look Severus was expecting didn't come, instead she smiled widely, reaching for his hand. "Congratulations, young man, you've found yourself a fine woman. I've known Hermione her whole life, her mother used to push her through here in a pram on her way to the shops. How did you meet her?"

"I've known her for some time," he replied softly.

"Ah, so you're going to be secretive," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Any other girl in the area, and I would be nervous hearing of her engagement to an older man, but Hermione has always been so much older than her years. She wouldn't get married on a whim."

He looked down at Hermione, whose cheeks were tinged pink as she seemed suddenly interested in a rose bush.

"No, she wouldn't," he agreed while suppressing a smirk.

"We should be getting on our way..." Hermione started, but Mrs. Winston grabbed her hand.

"No, Hermione. Don't think you're getting out of here empty-handed. Stay there a moment," she called, disappearing around the back of her house, re-emerging a minute later with two large cucumbers. "I've had a good yield this year. Come around for more anytime."

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Winston. I'll bring by some biscuits next week?"

"Thank would be fantastic, my granddaughter is coming to visit," she smiled.

"I'll see you Saturday morning, then. Good-bye!" she smiled, and they started walking again as Mrs. Winston bid them both good-bye.

"Is that what the bag is for?" Severus asked.

"Yes. People around here are very friendly. I used to babysit for a couple up the street, now whenever they see me I get some tomatoes. Mrs. Winston is not a very good baker, so I've made some things for her grandchildren or a party she's having. I'm not good friends with any of them, but I'm friendly enough that on a walk, on a day like today, it often turns into somewhat of a shopping trip."

Her words came true, and by the time they made it to the small shopping area they had stopped four more times, and the bag contained tomatoes, peppers, and some herbs. Severus was surprised that not one of her neighbors seemed concerned about her sudden engagement to an older man. They openly chatted with him, and he felt almost welcome in the neighborhood, in stark contrast to Spinners End, where everyone was isolated and preferred it that way. He was lost in thought as Hermione stopped at a butcher's shop and a bakery to gather a few more things to make a meal, but she started talking as soon as they were alone again.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

"Excuse me?" he looked at her.

"You look troubled," she replied softly.

"No. Just uncomfortable. I have sensed no reservations towards me from anyone we've spoken to."

"They don't know you here," she said, her fingers tightened on his arm. "They don't know what you've been through, or what you've done. To them, you are the fiancé of someone they know and trust to make her own decisions. By extension, they will trust you. You have a clean slate here, Severus. And you deserve it."

"I do not," he shook his head.

"That's a matter of opinion. We'll have to agree to disagree, though my opinion is that you have earned happiness, if you're willing to try to attain it," she smiled up at him, though there was a warmth behind her eyes that made him want to believe what she said.


End file.
